The Collector
by juliasejanus
Summary: Everyone has a price. Everyone has a weakness. At fifteen Alex Rider had lost everything and gained the one thing he had always wanted, a family. He would do everything in his power to protect Edward, Liz and Sabina. WARNING Male/male Dub/con SLASH Stockholm syndrome
1. Chapter 1

After six months, the CIA had finally approached Alex regarding future training and work. His current happiness and refuge in San Francisco with the Pleasures' came with a price. The Bank may have let him go but the CIA had paid for his therapy here. He had received both residential and weekly sessions of intensive group and individual therapy to get over his fifteen months of intensive fieldwork, his PTSD, guilt, grief and depression.

It was the beginning of December and Alex should be looking forward to his first family Christmas in America but all he felt was the cold dread and the certainty that he had endangered his foster family. The CIA had allowed him space to heal and become attached to his family and life in the US. Then they had but the knife in. Like Blunt before, he knew he could not escape, they owned him. He was too valuable an asset for them to let slip back into normal life. The CIA would treat him better; he would finish his education, maybe even to post graduate level but it would be on their terms.

He sat watching shoppers from Starbucks at the mall. Sabina had dragged him out and then disappeared with her friends. Alex had become semi popular in school. A jock as he had made the baseball and soccer teams at school with little effort. He had already purchased the gifts he would give in two weeks and posted letters and presents to Fox Smithers and Tom in England. In his gut Alex wanted to run but he did not have the means to do so. He needed money and false documents and the ability to pass as 18. He was tall enough but still looked like a lanky sixteen year old teenager. Even with false ID no one would take him for an adult.

Alex knew he was being followed. His movements noted and any threat from his enemies would be neutralised. The CIA Liaison, Clare Matheson, had explained that Scorpia had been reduced to a few isolated cells run by low level operatives. Nothing more than thugs for hire now. Zeljan Kurst had been eliminated by a Mossad Search and Destroy Team. It seemed that Levi Kroll had been a deep cover agent and his assassination had given the Israeli's the impetus to finish what Alex had started. Clare Matheson had detailed that Alex would need to learn Farsi, Arabic and Urdu as their operations were currently concentrated taking down Al-Qaeda. He would need to train at Langley the next summer to qualify for full agent status and then slowly build up his field experience in case he had any problems with flashbacks or any recurrence of his PTSD.

It all seemed so cut and dried. No escape, no future, no hope.


	2. Chapter 2

Two weeks stakeout duty following the Limey teenager in San Francisco at Christmas had fallen to two newly trained agents. They noted their mark open the door to the courier and sign for the package. The third delivery that day. Later Alex Rider would go to Karate and then Baseball practice. The boy never did anything beyond his set routine. Tomorrow they would tail him to his therapy session. This was boring in the extreme. There were no active Scorpia cells in the US or their neighbours Mexico or Canada. They had read the kid's profile. He had survived multiple assassination attempts including a sniper attack in London. Funny, there had been not a single out of the ordinary occurrence during his stay in California. The two agents sat and drank coffee, filling in their contact logs, photographing all and sundry. The NSA listened in and recorded all incoming and outgoing phone calls and emails. No part of Alex Rider's life was not under scrutiny.

The package Alex signed for looked like any other boring work item for Edward except it was addressed to A RIDER . No one else was home to notice Alex take the package to his room and carefully open it. A card and a phone dropped onto Alex's bed. Alex read the card it stated this was a complimentary gift phone from Datacore Industries. The phone rang. Deja vu, Alex thought of The Matrix, was he about to go down the rabbit hole.

Unknown to Alex every other member of his soccer team also received complimentary top of the range phones. Alex's gift was slightly different. His mobile had a state of the art scrambler fitted. No one would be able to listen in to his conversations with the CEO of Datacore Industries Inc.

The reclusive and enigmatic Stephan Mikhailovich Kelenkov was a multi-billionaire. Alex Rider had become known to the man who lived beyond governments concerns and petty politics. He may have been a Swiss citizen but he owned thousands of separate pieces of real estate, from buildings in New York, Paris, Sydney, London and Moscow to islands all over the world. He had a virtual fortress near Geneva, as well as owning two airlines, a business jet manufacturer, two computer companies, an international cell phone network, three shipping lines, several major newspapers and jointly owned a satellite and cable company which was currently expanding across the globe. His grandfather had left Russia in 1919 with a suitcase and enough money to survive for a month in Paris. Vladimir Kelenkov had worked from door to door salesman to owning a small haberdashery store in the outskirts of Paris by 1937. He had married a fellow exile and had two sons. His youngest son left home at sixteen and had joined the resistance after the German Occupation in 1940. There the boy had seized the opportunity to play spy, becoming a triple agent, working for the British, Russians and Germans. He sold information and became a successful black marketeer. By 1945, the man had a network of information gatherers and could buy and sell anything to anybody. The young Mikhail Kelenkov emerged from the war an orphan. His parents and brother long dead, imprisoned and worked to death as enemy aliens. He was a consummate capitalist without the boundaries of a conscience. Morals got you nowhere. He had been told to make his own way in the world by his father after leaving school with no qualifications. In 1950, Mikhail had earned his first million in American Dollars. By 1970, Mikhail Kelenkov had an empire both legitimate and in the grey areas of business. He had married another orphan of the war, a young bitter fellow survivor. Marta Kelenkov nee Swenson was a fine business woman in her own right. He settled in Geneva with his family. The Kelenkov's were affiliated to Scorpia but never became board members. It was a symbiotic relationship, the businessman did not dirty his own hands with the less than savoury aspects of being a completely ruthless. It was to this empire Stephan was born and raised.

Tragedy had struck when Mikhail and Marta had been targeted by kidnappers. A group of young marxist terrorists had snatched them, killing their two bodyguards. Stephan still at the Sorbonne was unable to liquidate the family assets to pay the ransom. The board members of his father's various companies ignored the boy. In 1973, his parents had been brutally murdered and then he slowly gained control of his father's empire. He had initially retreated into a clinic for grief therapy to help with his overwhelming feelings of powerlessness as both the authorities and his father's business associates had failed to save his parents. There at the exclusive hospital in Switzerland he met and later married an Argentinian heiress. He knew he had to father an heir, and so ruthlessly repressing his own homosexuality.

After ten tears he contracted Scorpia for some cleaning work. He began to destroy his enemies by reputation or he arranged that they met with tragic accidents. The he bought out their interests for his own gain. Stephan was hands on in his dealings with Scorpia. He met and became friends with the two assassins Scorpia had sent to work for him. Hunter and Cossack began to liquidate those who had failed young Stephan or they gathered information to blackmail and ruin others. He noted the two men were partners in all things. They had a professional and sexual relationship. Stephan began a relationship as casual lover with a young Yassen Gregorovich that would last twenty years.


	3. Chapter 3

Stephan Kelenkov was bored. His wife had divorced him and was now entertaining her new young love, an Argentinian Polo Player in Buenos Aires. His son was at Harvard Business School and was far too boring and straight laced for Stephan's tastes. The twenty four year old was a yes man, an accountant and bean counter. His son was a kind soul like his mother and did not possess a ruthless streak. Nothing remotely unpleasant had affected Carlos, well except his parent's divorce but he and Carlotta were still friends. She had been good trophy wife and he was not petty enough to destroy her because she had fallen in love. She would always be a good friend first. They had married without any pretense. She had escaped her brutal father and had always known Stephan was queer. He had been her friend and they had never been more than occasional lovers.

Business' were now controlled remotely by computer. He rarely played as his many subsidiaries did not need micro managing. He bought and sold many businesses over the years. Others businessmen knew to be friendly with Stephan Kelenkov, only fools and idiots openly challenged him.

He had been preoccupied and now dealt with personal matters put on hold during his family crisis caused by his wife's all consuming love affair. His long time lover Yassen Gregorovich had died working for the singer Damian Cray. Yassen's last letter had spoken about Hunter's son. Stephan now had a wealth of information on young Alex Rider. Yassen had asked Stephan to look out for, to protect and to employ Alex when he joined Scorpia, in the event of his own demise. At thirty-five Yassen had told Stephan he had made too many enemies, was getting too old for his chosen profession, that his number was up. Alex had briefly joined Scorpia but had been betrayed by Julia Rothman. The boy had been blackmailed to work for MI6 and now was at the beck and call of the CIA. Stephan had gathered information from several security agencies, the remnants of Scorpia and a couple of journalists. The boy was chaos personified.

Stephan looked at the surveillance photographs of the handsome young man tall, thin with blond hair and brown eyes, so like Hunter, but softer Obviously his looks influenced by his mother.

Most billionaires played games or collected art. Stephan had manipulated the demise and destruction of his enemies. His game had cost him his lover. He should have kept Yassen closer, protected him. He had little to show for personal achievements or happiness. He had no interest in the art his wife had collected. He wanted something different. This young spy intrigued him. He wanted him. He normally got what he wanted. He just had to realise what to offer young Mr. Rider to get him under his control. He had to be careful, Alex Rider had a tendency to destroy those who crossed his path. The demise of Scorpia had been an inevitability of the change in political climate. The war on terror would have destroyed them with or without Alex Rider's involvement.

After thirty years in business Stephan knew everyone had a price and everyone had a weakness. He himself had been reclusive and secretive. He used chosen companies and employees to act for him. His personal life stated he was a family man. His settlement with Carlotta had been generous and he had dated a couple of older actresses, divorcees themselves just to keep in place the veneer of normality. Yassen's own weakness had been his attachment to Hunter. The capture and death of John Rider had driven the young Russian into Stephan's arms. Stephan knew their relationship was casual, mutual attraction but never anything beyond that. The russian would never fall again.

Stephan wondered what Yassen had felt for John's son. The protectiveness of a quasi-parent or the pull of something stronger more primal, for one who looked so like Hunter. Stephan could see the physical, emotional attraction and also the enticing package of a fully trained spy and assassin. What would entice Alex leave his foster family to be with Stephan? He did not think it was money or the promise of work. He had to figure out this puzzle. He had to own this treasure. Stephan had been the master of his destiny since the death of his parents. He decided he would split his holdings. His son would become the face of his legitimate businesses. He would retain control of the shadier side of things. The majority of his wealth was spread over the globe. He was richer than serval independent countries. He mused on the photos of young Alex and opened his flies pulling out his cock and stroked his growing erection. He would have this spy, by hook or by crook Alex Rider was going to be his either willingly or by blackmail. No, Stephan would not accept an unwilling captive. No the boy would come willingly, he would have to work hard to achieve this but good things were worth working hard for.


	4. Chapter 4

Alex stared at the ringing cell phone before picking it up to answer, not talking but just listening. "Hello, Alex. You do not know me. My name is Stephan Kelenkov. I am the CEO of Datacore industries. I would like to meet you to discuss a mutual friend. I wish for you to tell me how Damian Cray killed my lover Yassen Gregorovich."

Alex was speechless. Yassen had a lover, a personal life beyond Scorpia. Alex closed his eyes. Thinking about the Russian assassin was a contradiction for Alex. He hated him but he had also connected with him at a deep level. They had been mirror images. A strangled sob escaped Alex as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"I'm sorry to upset you Alex but Yassen meant a lot to me" the voice in the phone continued.

Alex tried to answer but couldn't find the words. "Sorry. I... I... Shit, Christ" Alex was lost in the maelstrom of memories and conflicting feelings, grief and loss most of all. "I ... ummm. Yassen meant a lot to me at the end. He saved my life. He refused to kill me. He died because he refused to kill me. I killed Cray. I... Tell me when and where to meet. This is best told in full, face to face."

"Thank you for agreeing to meet. I would like it to be without your little minders. After therapy tomorrow, there will be a car waiting for you outside of Dr. Stranski's office. I will arrange a diversion so we will not be disturbed. I have a beach house at Carmel. We can talk there. Thank you again Alex. Goodbye for now."

Alex used the internet to google Stephan Kelenkov and Carmel. The hits popped up and listed several gossip column's as Kelenkov had dated Margaret Beilby, the popular star of a daytime soap opera, briefly this summer and she had stayed with him there. Some had speculated on an engagement and whirlwind romance or just a rebound for both after their recent divorces but it was the usual long range shots taken by a paparazzi and no real substance. The man had said he and Yassen had been lovers. Then again Alex could not talk, he's thought Yassen was a bit of alright to look at himself. Alex then picked up his journal, not writing anything incriminating down just his feelings and underlying a list of things he needed to talk to his shrink about.

1. His paranoia  
2. His pessimism  
3. the fact he found certain men attractive  
4. he liked girls, honest  
5. Why am I in total denial about myself?

Alex then googled several other recent gossip stories to cover his tracks, let them think he was a would be stalker or just into trashy TV. He knew the CIA watched him and the Pleasures. There you go back to number one on his list. Completely paranoid. Except they really were out to keep control of Alex Rider.

Liz watched Alex poke and push the food around his plate. She had noted the things he did not attempt to eat. Tonight it was pasta, not quite a favourite but it had been quick and easy. Normally a recipe Alex ate with no problems. Then again Alex's food intake had been dropping over the past week. Liz needed to talk to Edward. She suspected Alex was internalising his upset over Christmas. He was either anxious about upsetting their family routine or just depressed about what he had lost. Alex had suffered far too much.

Sabina also noticed Alex was not eating. They had settled on being big sister and little brother after Sabina had decided Alex needed the stability of family to get well and get over what the bastards at MI6 had done to him. She was extremely over protective and had actually cheered Alex 'the Karate black belt' up immensely when she had taken some arseholes at school to task over their poor attempt at hazing the new kid at Presidio High School. Sabina ran with the popular crowd in her senior year had let all know she would destroy anyone by reputation for hurting her sophomore foster brother. Alex had not attempted to make any close friends but had been friendly to all. He missed Tom but had kept a certain distance from his old friend after Blunt had used his relationship with Tom to get Alex to agree to go to Cairo. Friends were liabilities in the long run.

Now, Alex was back to being completely pessimistic and paranoid. He got up abruptly from the dinner table and decided to pull his minder's chains. He quickly changed into sweats and dropped out of his bedroom window and then went off for a long run. The bastards were still sat in their car none the wiser when Alex returned over an hour later. He jogged up to the front door and waved across the street. He hoped Agents johnson and Johnson, as he had taken to calling those in the car/van parked under the trees opposite, got into trouble for loosing him for an hour. He hoped they learned to be a bit less conspicuous otherwise their career as operatives was likely to be very short otherwise.

Sabina heard Alex arrive back and went into his room before he disappeared into the shower.

"Good run?" she asked neutrally.

"Ok I guess" Alex shrugged.

Sabina was used to Alex's terse replies so went for the jugular, "Are you OK Alex?"

Alex looked at Sabina seeing the concern on her face. "Do you think it was a mistake to stop dating?"

The girl frowned at the curve ball she had been thrown, "You and I?"

"Yeah."

"I think we work better as siblings. The whole older woman thing was just not happening. I do not need a boy toy and you need someone who'll get you 110%. We looked good but it was what it was. A few kisses, never a great passion."

Alex could not have summed it up better. "Is your current beau Mitchell a great passion?"

"Umm, he's only half trained. I'm waiting for college. I think I'll meet my first great passion there." Sabina had her life planned out. College, working for a fashion magazine in features, not editorial. A novel or two, well received of course and a rich and successful husband. She genuinely worried about Alex, who had stated he could not see himself ever escaping the espionage business even if the thought of growing up into Ian Rider made him want to slash his own throat.

Alex was not suicidal but a realist. Adults especially those in government employ were blackmailing, abusing bastards. Alex had told Sabina in July he'd had enough of the game of shadows and lies. Nothing had changed even after intensive therapy. He would play the CIA's game. He would see if Mr. Kelenkov just wanted info or was the usual brand of crazy megalomaniac. The fact he and Yassen had been close spoke of another type of man, more like Yassen than Damian Cray. Another Yassen that was a scary thought.


	5. Chapter 5

By the time Alex got off the bus to go to his therapy session he was officially getting close to lashing out. He had not slept. He had not eaten. He was coming apart at the seams. It was all part of the CIA's plan, observe him under stress. Drop a bombshell and see if he bends or breaks. Fuck them all to hell. The useless gits watching across the street would not even notice a Scorpia trained assassin until Alex's blood and/or brain matter was decorating the street.

He sat with a face like thunder waiting for his allotted hour of hot air and playing with words. No, there would be no avoidance today. Alex was going to lay it all on the line. Not that the shrink would give any straight answers. Another set of complete bastards really. Think your way out of you problems. Alex rather liked one aspect of his former profession. You eliminated your problems, all Alex had to do was get the hang of disassociation and he'd be a proper psychopath.

The ever calm and cheerful shrink started with"Afternoon Alex, Looking forward to the holidays?"

"Happy Hanukah yourself. I lost interest in Christmas at the age of five when Ian bluntly told me Father Christmas AKA Santa Claus was a bunch of lies invented to sell Coca cola."

"Ahh so are we starting todays session by discussing Ian?"

"No. We are talking about me. I'm a paranoid pessimistic arsehole. Christmas and people like me do not mix. I could hack it by going skiing with Ian. Last Christmas was the worst ever. Jack tried so hard for it all to be Disney perfect. I think its going to be more of the same with the Pleasures. I want to leave a note and go surfing all day. Stick your good cheer, peace to all men and stinking roast dinner." Alex could feel the spittle from his last rant rain down on his face.

"I wrote a list to discuss today, but first I have not eaten well all week. Food tastes like ash and makes me want to vomit. I have not slept well. I have detailed my series of nightmares in my journal like a good boy. I did enjoy Karate, soccer and baseball practice. The only times I stopped navel gazing about my shit life. I want to run, doc. I want to loose myself, the one person I can't escape. Last night I started to list ways of ending it all. I feel trapped. Hunted. Paranoia is my constant companion."

"You have lived here for six months without any kind of threat or reason for these feelings to escalate."

"So I'm imagining it, am I Doc? Fuck you." Alex was so angry. He stared at the man with a defuse this you smug bastard expression.

The accusation and foul language were side stepped with "So your list?"

"Paranoia, pessimism, denial" Alex said shortly, not elucidating at all.

"Denial? Please expand."

"I..." Alex stopped himself, agitated. He got up and went to look out of the window. "I told you about Yassen."

"Yes. What about Yassen?"

"I first met him at Port Tallon. The first time I saw him he worked for Herod Sayle." Alex's body language relaxed and his expression softened to vulnerable, lost. "I saw him shoot some guy without looking at him. Bam dead. Just like that. Yassen was so cold, precise and deadly. I wasn't thinking about that though. I should have been crapping myself in fright, running away. Do you know what I was actually thinking?"

"Please tell me" the doctor asked in his usual slightly condescending tone.

Alex smiled and concentrated on the memory of Yassen. Almost god like in his hard beauty. "I thought he was smoking hot. I fancied the man who three weeks previously had blown my uncles brains out. I know teenage boys think with their dicks, but really. I'm a sick fuck really."

"Homosexual thoughts are not something to beat yourself up over, Alex."

"I still find him hot. I think if he was alive and I met him today I'd have hot angry sex with him." Alex had made himself hard with that revelation. "I never had that reaction with any other of the murdering bastards I met. So what was special about Yassen?"

"His association with your father?"

"I knew fuck all about John Rider at that point. Do you think I have a daddy complex, because I never found Ian remotely appealing. I worshiped him but that was more stupid little boy wanting him to notice me, please notice me, please, please. Shit back to talking about Ian."

"Maybe some word association would help"

"Screw your word games. I want to discuss the fact I can't or maybe won't date anyone at school. I want dangerous. I want unattainable. I want the one person I can't have. The one person that has actually told me he loved me."

"I'm sure Yassen meant it in a paternal way judging that your father was his mentor."

Alex then laughed hard. "You know sweet fuck all about my father." Alex then had had enough, after barely 20 minutes he wanted out. He threw himself down on the couch knowing he had to spin this out for another twenty minutes at least. His hand went south and he softly stroked his erection through his jeans.

"I want to get off, Doc. I want to wank myself and I do not care that you are here.'' Alex pulled his hand away. "I'm a sad little virgin. The only person I've kissed was Sabina. I'm trapped here. Stupid California, where you have to be 18 to fuck. Then again its two months to my sixteenth birthday so I'm still well and truly jailbait."

"The legal statutes never stopped a horny teenager from fucking."

"Should I go out and cruise for a tall fit stranger to roger me senseless?"

"You keep referring to homosexual attraction and sex. Are you homosexual Alex?"

"Bi... I think. I get turned on by girls in general not by guys. Yassen bucks the trend."

"You are very open in your attraction to the assassin. Are you sure you have not had thoughts about Fox or any of the others in K unit or maybe your Godfather, Ash?"

"Nope, no reaction at all." Alex looked at the ceiling and exhaled. The silence stretched out. "One good thing about talking to you is I'm no longer angry. Now I'm resigned to my lonely existence."

"Do you masturbate to thoughts of girls or just Yassen?"

"Umm what gets me hard. Liz, Sabina, Sabina's friends, most of my female classmates. Umm I get hard dreaming about Yassen and most women I see on TV, in films and in magazines. I wank about 2 to three times a day. I fancy both giving and receiving a blow job. The thought of sucking dick in general goes not turn me off. Oral sex with girls is a turn on but then again I only have porn as a guide for that. I've never even groped a girl or unhooked a bra." Alex sighed and though about the locker room talk at sports practice and in school in general. "Am I emotionally stunted? I'm sure I'm the only virgin sopomore in school, well except those in the Mormon and Uber Christian group. I have had one girlfriend who was more friend than object of attraction. Is it all denial of my true bent as fuck nature. Its confusing."

"No one can pressurise you to conform or be do things you are not ready for."

"That's bullshit and you know it. I only worked for MI6 cause they blackmailed me into it. Christ! Its not like anyone would want to fuck me anyway. I'm a bloody mess. My body is a road map of scar tissue."

"Alex maybe we should discuss your image issues. Does this relate to your poor eating habits?"

"You tell me, doc. You tell me. I get pitying looks at school when I strip off. Its so hard to hide the fact I have horrendous burn scars all over my shoulders and back." Alex still lay and stared straight up. "Is my hour up because I need some fresh air?"

"Its not about set times, its about you feeling better about yourself Alex. You are here to discuss your worries and problems."

Alex stood up and this point. "Its a bag of crap. I'm not happy. I hate myself. I think it was a mistake to come to California. I think a children's home in London would have been a better idea. Anyways its only another six months. At 16 and you are out of the system in the UK. I can go back to London and live in a crappy bedsit all alone and vegetate on the dole. Thats my plan. If I'm a complete useless fuck no one will ever bother me again. Perfect. Life plan discussed and approved. Goodbye doc. I won't be back." Then the young man was out of the door and down the hall without a backwards glance.

"Alex! Alex! Come back. That was not a discussion. Alex!" shouted Dr. Stranski from the open door.


	6. Chapter 6

Meetings and introductions are such delicate things. Etiquette, nuances and politeness were expected. Stephan had exercised and masturbated just to appear calm and collected. The enigma of Alex Rider would be here within the hour. He wanted to slowly understand this boy, reel him in. What was it the english called it, grooming. Yes he would groom Alex. Offer him the world and then have him. Stephan smiled to himself he had not been this excited since his initial foray into the dark world of assassination and blackmail. It was as if his life had come full circle. Stephan thought he would see a shadow of himself as he was in 1973. Lost and alone. Stephan had found Carlotta then. She had helped him gather himself, to plan to work to establish himself. Alex had few choices at the moment. Stephan could offer him the chance to breath. He was a patient man.

Alex sat in the the back of a nondescript black BMW with tinted windows. He could see the driver but had not spoken to him, then again Alex was happy to watch the scenery change, as it was a fair drive to Carmel. A place Alex had never been. Mind you in six months in California Alex had been as far as Oakland once. His mind kept thinking what type of man, a CEO at that, had Yassen Gregorovich as a lover. Yassen had appeared to be a man of ice, except for those last few moments alone with Alex on Air Force One. Alex was sure he did not have the answers Stephan Kelenkov was asking for, but Alex would be completely truthful. There had been too many secrets, half truths and down right lies told to Alex. He owed Yassen to help his lover mourn him and have some closure. Not that Alex felt any closure. Therapy just seemed to keep tearing the scabs off his emotional wounds.

The car pulled off onto a narrow track, they drove straight through a set of large gates and a perimeter wall at least two metres high. The gates closed automatically behind the car. The track was surrounded on both sides by mature redwoods, tall and forbidding. Then the house came into view. Not large, but a beach house surrounded by acres of private wilderness. This place screamed wealth. The only point paparazzi could photograph from was boats on the ocean or from a helicopter.

The house was cool and dark compared to the bright sunshine outside. Alex was shown into the hall which was paneled in a honey coloured wood. This led out onto the verandah. There sat a man with dark blond hair and blue eyes. The trim figure obviously looked after himself. He was dressed casually in a polo shirt and slacks, looking very down to earth. The man stood to greet Alex, formally with an offered hand. Alex looked into the man's emotionless eyes as they shock hands.

"Welcome to my home, Alexander. Please have a seat. Would you like some refreshments?" with Alex's curt nod, Stephan raised his hand. Within minutes a tray of a perfect afternoon tea appeared.

Alex sipped the cup of earl grey in fine china and was suddenly transported back in space and time to be back in England with his uncle. Ian had loved Earl Grey tea and had been very traditional in how it was served, alway in a porcelain teacup with a saucer, brewed in a pot from leaf tea, milk always poured in after the tea.

Alex helped himself to scones, jam and cream. The man watched him eat and relax, before serving himself. Stephan smiled inwardly. The boy missed his home. His uncle may have brought him up all over Europe but their were just some quintessentially English things that transposed all. Tea was a national past time in England, Alex like the father he had never known, loved afternoon tea.

"It was John Rider who introduced me to the delights of afternoon tea. I had grown up in Switzerland. My mother was Danish, my father french born of Russian exiles. As much as I love black tea, I now prefer Earl Grey."

"You knew my father as well?" Alex stopped eating as observed this man, who was old enough to be Alex's father.

"I employed Hunter and Cossack in 1984 for some cleaning work. We worked together intensely over the next year, I got to know both your father and his partner, Yassen very well. We became friends. Your father was a good man, do not be blinded by the fact he was an assassin. He was an excellent judge of character." Stephan could see the boy was jaded. Revelations about John had come at such a high price. Scorpia had failed John's son. Yassen's legacy was this boy.

Alex then started to talk of his childhood, Ian and Jack. Yassen killing Ian had sent Alex's life into freefall. All the missions, blackmail, torture, threats and deaths had left Alex a broken shell. Alex talked about Damian Cray and the events on Airforce One. The fact Yassen had told him to go to Scorpia and how it had all gone horribly wrong when Julia Rothman had used Alex as a tool of revenge. She proved to be true of the adage 'A woman scorned'. She had seen Alex as proof of John Rider's betrayal of herself, as he had left Scorpia not out of loyalty to MI6 but because of his wife. Alex continued to tell of the assassination attempt, events leading up to the revealing of Ash's betrayal and everything up to Jack's murder. Alex then stopped not wanting to say anything of his life in California.

The sky had darkened and Alex agreed to stay for supper. They retreated into the house where a fire was burning in the den.

Stephan had noted Alex had made no reference to his current foster parents. The businessman knew all about Edward Pleasure and his books on Damian Cray and Desmond McCain. The plate of cold meat and salad was picked at by Alex. It was then that Stephan opened up about his own life. "You must understand, Alex, that I too lost everything. Not as such a young age as you or Yassen but I was just 20 when my perfect life was destroyed. I was a student and my life was one of privilege and pleasure. My mother and father spoiled me as I had grown up to be everything they expected of a son. I excelled in school, was athletic and I put family first and foremost. My parents were both orphaned during the War. My father had left home after a monumental row with his own father over his choices. My mother had been interned and used as slave labour. They found solace in each other, We were a close family, very close. In 1973, my parents were kidnapped and murdered by a group of young Marxist radicals. They only saw my parents wealth, not the fact both my parents worked long and hard for their comforts. I was still viewed as a child and treated as such by the board members of my fathers' companies and by the police. I was destroyed by my grief. I was lucky enough to meet my wife, my ex-wife, and I gained my one true friend and companion. It was not until much later, after the birth of our son, that I allowed by true leanings to surface. Your father was openly bisexual. He had your mother, Yassen and Julia as willing partners in his bed. He never lied to any of them but your arrival meant he wanted a stable, normal family life away from his work. Yassen understood this about John and that was when he and I grew closer. Our relationship was one of mutual respect and attraction. We both knew we did not need masks with each other. My life over the last two years has gone from comfort to nothing. I am still friends with my wife but we are no longer as close. I miss her constant companionship and Yassen was only an occasional bed partner, but I had all I needed."

Alex sat and contemplated all Sephan had told him. "You destroyed those whose inaction led to your parents death."

"I did. I spent 10 years getting to a position to be able to do that. I am a patient man." Stephan's smile was as cold as his eyes.

A strange spike of desire curled in Alex's stomach. The teenager had met another man who could be calm and relaxed about being completely ruthless. Alex knew he himself was more like Stephan and Yassen than the Pleasures. He was pretending to act normal, the one thing he wanted above all else, something he knew deep down he was not nor had he ever been.


	7. Chapter 7

Alex woke as the car pulled up five blocks from the Pleasure's house. Far enough out for Alex to sneak home without alerting any of the spooks watching the house to his return. Alex snuck over four gardens before climbing up to his bedroom window. He dropped in and then his light switched on. There was stood Clare Matheson, Edward and Liz in the doorway. Alex noted his alarm clock stated it was 1:30am. Then and there Alex decided to play the petulant teenager card. He had drunk enough nice expensive burgundy and had taken the offered nightcap of a cognac to be drunk enough to pass his unsupervised excursion off as teenage high jinx.

Alex played up his inebriation by swaying slightly "I think I need to sit down"

Alex flopped down on the bed and Liz huffed "Next time you go to a party. Please let us know in advance. Get some sleep. I will discuss your punishment in the morning." At that, Liz left and went to bed.

Clare looked half amused as if playing the parental role to a normal teenager was something she had not factored in. "Ok Alex, your security detail is there for your safety and protection. Where were you and why did you just take off?"

"I made some new friends at the beach" stated Alex knowing precisely how to bend the truth to not raise any concerns or to notify his CIA handler that he was playing a dangerous game. "Needed to think about stuff. I just sat and had a few sluggs of wine, chatted about shit."

Clare then said "OK Alex, Dr Stranski was not amused by your performance today and thinks you need another residential course to discuss your body image issues. I think a group discussion is in order about your placement here and your wish for more independence."

"And there I though my sessions were meant to be confidential between doctor and patient." Alex then started to pull off his clothes, laid in bed wearing boxers and t-shirt, pulling his duvet over his head.

Edward lead the CIA agent downstairs to the front door before making his views known, "OK Ms. Matheson. I think you done enough damage for one night. Alex was just blowing off steam. He needs to be allowed to do his own thing. Its part of growing up. If you and your bosses pressurise him too much he'll do something stupid. We now have to deal with the fact Alex's relationship with his analyst is compromised thanks to you. He needs a basis of trust. Something Alex does not hand out easily. No discussions about anything until after the holidays. Good night." Edward watched the young woman go to her car. He closed the door and then noticed Alex sat on the stairs having been listening in to Edward's parting speech.

"You do know she's my Handler" stated Alex quietly.

"I take it from that Byrne and company still want you to work for them", as Edward connected the dots while analysing Alex, who seemed to confide in the journalist over the more unsavoury aspects of his life.

"Language courses and agent training in the summer were discussed at the beginning of the week." Alex confessed as he began to bite his fingernails, subconsciously nervous.

Edward smiled shaking his head and then moved to sit next to Alex "So you're not uptight about Christmas?"

"No, not really. I never felt it was a big deal anyway. Jack normally went home and Ian and I would spent two weeks skiing. I miss skiing. The whole traditional Christmas day, gifts, food and decorations are not something I actually give a crap about. Turkey dinner no thanks. Leftovers, yuck."

"Do you want to go back to London?" enquired Edward.

"I need to get out of my funk. I think I needed a breather after Jack died, needed to know what a proper family was but the price is too high if you get dragged into their world of blackmail and deceit. I will not give them that much power over me. Look Edward, if I skip and run do not take it personally."

"Do you think you will run?"

Alex sat and pondered this. "I will not be used again. I don't have any options at the moment. I'm stuck, but if it's a choice between protecting you from friend and foe alike I will do what ever it takes even if it is going to work for Byrne full time once I'm sixteen."

"You should not be forced into this, you are too young."

"Yeah too late for me, I gave into Blunt's blackmail at 14. I'm in their world now and like it or not the only way out is in a box."

Alex's first day back at school had everyone asking what he had been grounded for. Sabina had set the rumour mill going by going to parties without her normal shadow. She had insisted Alex socialise with his peers. Now he got to mope in his room courtesy of Liz's protracted punishment. It was almost blissful solitude to Alex who still refused to go back to therapy.

Alex's phone, his new phone, rang at lunch when he sat outside and read rather than eat the disgusting food in the school cafeteria.

The lightly accented English of Stephan Kelenkov spoke, "Hello Alex. I hope you had a relaxing holiday. I was wondering if you would like to meet me for dinner. No strings attached. Just a meal between mutual acquantienecs."

Alex smiled and immediately shot back with "I'd love to but I'm grounded."

"I'm sure you can break curfew. My car will pick you up after your karate lesson. See you later."

Alex felt he had just been dared into meeting this man again. He could still refuse, but Alex wanted the excitement of this elicit liaison. Deep down Alex missed the adrenlin rushes from missions. Having a secret friend was harmless enough? In the dark recesses of Alex's psyche the thought of a secret lover was much more enticing.

Alex showered after karate and thought he was hopelessly underdressed in his jeans and sweatshirt combo. As Alex exited onto the sidewalk he spotted the same BMW and noted his surveillance crew were not present. Something or someone had helped them disappear.

La Braserrie Normandie was normally a place you only got into after a three month wait for a reservation. However, it was a Monday and this restaurant was normally closed on a Monday. Stephen Kelenkov sat and sipped a glass of Crystal Champagne as the skeleton staff waited on him. He had leant the chef the start up capital for this venture and Stephan could always drop in and expect a table. Tonight's meeting was different. Each person here owed Stephen. None would dare make a comment when he dined with a teenage boy.

The Maitre'd showed Alex to his seat. The boy looked slightly bashful when he greeted Stephan. "Umm hi. Thanks for inviting me. I apologise for being inappropriately underdressed."

"No no, your ensemble is perfectly fine. Normally the dress code is no jeans, jacket and tie but tonight its informal, only us after all. I had a stressful day of meetings and decided to eat out."

Alex looked at the menu but considered Stephan's ability to be able to get a whole restaurant to himself on a whim.


	8. Chapter 8

Alex sat hiding in the restroom at school sat on the john, locked in. The screaming match at home last night had been awful. Liz's worry over Alex's safety had quickly converted into anger, hot and self-righteous. Alex stood and took the tirade listing his faults... "Thoughtless, irresponsible, no thought for his safety or the concerns of others." Then Liz started on him about gallivanting with his beach friends, underage drinking, slipping his minders, breaking his curfew and the fact he was supposed to be grounded. Alex stood and looked at Edward who seemed to be waiting for Liz to vent and then he in cold soft tones reiterated Alex's stupid recklessness. Alex knew he had always been impulsive. Ian had always had the attitude of explaining choices and that taking chances was not a bad thing, just to trust in yourself. Jack had never given any boundaries as long as he did well in school. Finally Alex was dismissed to his room. He stood for about two minutes before opening the window and leaving. He lay on the school baseball square and looked at the stars. He was calm and at peace. Alex had slept rough there last night, hidden under the bleachers. He now felt grimy and looked like shit. He thought back to the wonderful meal, easy conversation and the parting of promises of future meetings and brief caste kiss on the lips. Alex thought after two meetings Stephan seemed like a dream, a promise of something wonderful even if nothing had been spoken out loud. Alex could read people and Stephan wanted Alex, not that Alex was sure what he wanted him for. Maybe it was just sexual, that was the least frightening of all the options. Alex 'the boy toy', the thought made Alex laugh out loud and then he got up and went to class.

Mark Craven noticed that Alex was in the same clothes he wore yesterday. He had also noted an runaway alert on the notice board in the teacher's lounge. Alex Rider's foster placement was not as idyllic as everyone had first thought. He took role call and then stated "Alex Rider go to the Principal's office."

Everyone in the class then looked at the loner. Alex could not care less what was being said about him. He could bet he'd be having a nice chat with Clare, Edward and Liz. Yesterday, Edward and Liz seemed to side with Clare's attitude Alex was in danger and needed to be protected.

Edward was there in twenty minutes with Clare and the bloody school psychologist. Alex was under assessment.

"So Ed" Alex smiled as he knew his foster father hated being called that, "Is this my its your way or the highway moment."

"No Alex. We just want you to understand that you have boundaries. Being grounded means you can't just go on excursions and party because you feel like it. If it carries on we will stop all extra curricular activities during your grounding. Alex, we are trying to give you guidelines. I thought you wanted normal."

"You can't make a square peg fit into a round hole. I'm not normal. I've got over my delusions of a happy future." Alex said looking at the floor.

"I'm not giving up on you, Alex. I know you're just pulling away in some stupid idea of protecting us. I'm already a target for some scary people. The incident in the South of France proved that. We are all well aware of the risks involved here. Alex just enjoy the rest of your childhood. I know your an adult in all but years. Relax, don't keep pushing the boundaries and your surfer friends can come over to visit you. No sneaking off."

The school psychologist then gave his two pence worth about Alex's being in need of strong boundaries to make up for the neglect and abuse in the past. Alex hated the cover story for his therapy, but the 'troubled teen aspect' covered his withdrawn and careful attitude with severe trust and parental control issues. The bastard therapist then suggested Alex go on a few weekend hikes, an area group activity for fostered teens. To get to know others in his situation and that he was not alone. They all figured he was in danger of forming relationships with the wrong sort, falling into drug use as he had been out drinking illegally twice. The label on his file was now potential runaway and teenage alcoholic. Another incident and Alex would be assessed by a Youth Referral Center with family meetings and more group therapy.

The only thing keeping Alex sane during his extended punishment period was the texts, messages and calls of support from Stephan. The man had a quick wit and appreciated Alex's sarcasm and even suggested he use his time to finish his schooling ahead of time. Alex was soon well into his Junior year assignments and an A grade average. The businessman complained he was also snowed under with work commitments in New York suffering a series of long and boring board meetings and referrals to his lawyers. Alex could open up to his friend. The fact he had someone to confide in and trust was surprising. It had been easy to open up to Stephan and form a bond. He had told Stephan details of his life he had never told before, not to MI6, Sabina, Tom, Edward or either his previous nor his new shrink. Stephan shared details of his dealings with John and his relationship with Yassen as well as his family. Alex had even read a book on the Kelenkov kidnapping, which catalogued the series of serious errors on the part of the police investigation including a bungled ransom drop off with forged currency. The photos from the press calls showed a drastically different Stephan Kelenkov, frantic and broken. Alex then wondered on what had happened to Yassen to create a sixteen year old assassin.

The third week of internment, as Alex called his grounding, saw him off on a day trip with a bunch of other problem teenagers, all set for a 20 mile hike in Yosemite, deemed to be a team building exercise. Alex took off at a sprint to get well aheads of his group saying he was scouting ahead where in reality he wanted to finish in 2 hours not the allotted five. He arrived at the end point thirsty and sweaty, but not overly tired. He found a nice meadow well away from the tourists and lay watching the clouds. After an hour he went to the final checkpoint and the senior supervisor shook his head as he had been waiting for the wayward boy to show up.

"Look Mike I had enough of team building when I was 14. Just label me a hopeless case. I'm not interested in conforming or being a good little boy." sneered Alex.

"Alex. Do not let the people who abused you to win. Open up, enjoy life. You are not alone."

"You know shit about me. Generalisations won't work. I was taught from a young age to expect nothing from nobody. I learned the hard way that friends and loved ones are liabilities that are only used to hurt me. So stop trying to help." Alex then slopped off to sit back by the bus. He'd rather have done a good chunk of next years maths work than be here, even if here was a stunning beautiful forest.


	9. Chapter 9

Edward stared at his computer screen. The words were not coming. Today his notes were not translating into scintillating prose, he had complete and utter writer's block. He reread the 500 words he had already written and then erased them. It was no use. He decided he needed to get some coffee. Edward knew the fact he was procrastinating meant he would probably do anything today rather than sit and finish his article, deadline or no deadline. At that point there was a soft knock on his office door, which opened slightly and Alex's head appeared. Edward had not even heard his foster son come in after his therapy session. Edward's calendar was a multi-coloured array of time blocks detailing everyone's schedules. Alex and he were home alone this evening. Normally Alex phoned for pizza at these times, leaving Edward to eat and work undisturbed in his office. Alex coughed to get the journalist's attention.

"Umm.. Edward.. sorry to disturb you but can we talk?" Alex had the familiar tense and poised body language that Edward interpreted that Alex needed to talk but actually did not want to. The young man had been less than forthcoming with his new therapist.

"Sure Alex. I'm not being very productive at the moment and was about to take a break." At this Edward stood up and limped to the kitchen. His prolonged inactivity had made his left leg stiffen up annoyingly.

In the kitchen it took seconds to put the battered aluminium espresso pot that Edward had owned since his early twenties on the stove to percolate. Very strong coffee was a particular weakness, one he shared with his foster son on the few occasions they bonded. Edward had kept detailed notes in his own personal shorthand about Alex's misadventures, not that he thought any cryptologist would take more than a couple of hours to break his scribbles.

Edward let Alex relax and find his words. It wasn't until the two small cups of thick black italian coffee steamed in front of them did the blond boy actually speak.

"When do you know if you're in love?.. I mean whats the difference between attraction, obsession and something more, you know deeper?"

"I guess when you go beyond just physical or you have trust, attraction and desire. Deeper than friendship. I could not imagine life without Liz now. She is my best friend, the best lover I've ever had and we have a wonderful family together."

Alex pondered on all this. "I don't want you to take this the wrong way and its not a bad reflection on Sabina, but... I've been questioning my sexuality. It might be a phase or just experimentation. I don't know. I'm frightened of stepping beyond just being friends with a guy I met. I like girls. I guess I'm bi, or just having a curious moment. Is it worth getting burned? I'm so jaded, being closed off emotionally is a safer option. I do not want to give anyone and this is me at my paranoid worst, any ammunition to hurt me. This guy, Steve, is cool. I know he swings a bit both ways. I'm unsure whether I want him or just the idea of not being so alone. Oh and I refuse to tell my shrink anything. I just can't talk to anyone that will blab to them... those bastards who are trying to control my life."

"Wow, Alex. I think I might have to break that all down into bullet points." Edward looked at Alex. This had been the reason for Alex's wild mood since before Christmas. His foster son was suffering from teen angst compounded by his compete lack of faith in the world in general. Edward could curse each and everyone of the adults who had lied, used, neglected and abused Alex. At fifteen Edward himself had a self obsessed nerd. Alex was as detached as an assassin, afraid and mistrusting of himself or anyone else.

"Right Alex, to fall in love you have to trust and have the trust returned. If you think you are bi or gay. Experiment. I've always been 100% into women, but you can only find out what works for you by trying. You will get burnt along the way. Get your heart broken. Its a learning curve. You will just click with the right person. A good relationship is worth pursuing. Having sex? Well Alex you are 15 nearly 16. I know I was sexually active at that age. Fooling around not actual sex. I fucked for the first time at 17. It was not great. Too short, I was drunk. The girl was fast and loose. It was just sex. Some people save themselves for their first love. Its up to you. Does this Steve like you back?"

"I think so. I hope so. I want to try for something more. I think its worth the chance. I may get my heart broken but at the moment its just my pride. I'd rather have fun. Love would be great but I want enjoyment and comfort. I don't want the crushing loneliness anymore. I like the game of sexual attraction. Does that make me a slut in the making?"

"Hardly, Alex. This Steve has been hanging around for over a month. He's interested. Call him arrange a date. I'll smooth things over with Liz. She's a sucker for young love." Edward looked intently as he watched the cogs move in Alex's brain. "Alex, if its a choice between love and those people outside. Live your life for yourself. Don't make decisions based on keeping everyone safe. The only person you should be worried about is number one. Fall in love then worry about number two. Liz, Sabina and I, we are OK. Don't lose yourself on our account."

"I would sacrifice everything for you guys. You have a little bit of perfection. I still feel like a spectator on the outside. All too late for me. I guess I grew up and did not notice. I only pretend to be a kid at school. The guys annoy me. The girls are all to into themselves and stuff that is totally stupid. Sabina is a million times more mature than anyone in my year. I have more in common with you and Liz than anyone at school, teachers included." Alex lay his head on the table. The cool surface pleasant on his cheek. "Steve is different. I like the fact he's mysterious and fascinating. I want to know him." Alex let out a deep breath. "I think push will come to shove with Clare. Thanks for talking Edward."

"Glad I could be of help." Edward had played out his role of surrogate dad. He got the feeling it won't be long before the young man before him headed for pastures new. The thought frightened the journalist, but children leaving the nest was inevitable. Alex was not a child by any measure.

Alex played nice for the next week until the calm normal atmosphere at home and school really got to him. Alex had been surprised Clare had not called him to account for his conversation with Edward, maybe she had bigger fish to fry. All in all Alex was not the be all and end all of the espionage world. He had all but outgrown his usefulness as a teen spy and a rebellious and difficult underage agent was not needed. He came to an internal decision as he sat after baseball practice. A swift touch of buttons and he called Stephan.

"Hi...its Alex. I was wondering if we could met up or something."

"Hello, I'm sorry I haven't been in touch but I'm still in New York at the moment and due in Toronto tomorrow morning. I can sent a plane would you like to meet for brunch?"

"A plane?"

"Yes I'll get a flight arranged from Palo Alta Airport. My assistant will text you the details. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

With that the phone went dead.


	10. Chapter 10

This was no longer a game. Alex packed his bag like he would be attending school, except he left his pack up on the counter. The bus ride was the usual uneventful journey. Alex slipped off the bus a block from school stating he was getting a cup of coffee. He arrived at the airport in plenty of time and the games began. He was wearing a dark blue jacket, jeans and a 49'ers baseball cap. He went to the news stand and bought a copy of Izvestiya and held it carefully folded in folded in front of him. There as per instructions he was met by a smart young woman in a business suit. She was caring a leather hold all. Alex followed her to a bathroom and then changed into the clothes provided putting his stuff into the bag when finished.

The woman then started talking in German with an American accent. They continued their conversation through the passport and customs control. Being dressed as a pilot no one paid Alex much attention. The woman acted as a superior PA. Alex was shown to the business jet, and sat next to the pilot who muttered a quick hello as he completed his preflight checks and his conversations with the control tower. Michael Jones did not ask questions. The last minute addition of a second pilot was unusual but was obviously the guy was just piggybacking to get to work in Canada.

Stephan sat in his suite of rooms. He had three meetings this morning and a business dinner that night. He could not stop now. He planned to be free of all personal commitments and be able to run all his interests remotely from one of his more obscure homes. Soon he would be able to relax, hopefully with Alex. No definitely with Alex.

Alex was thinking too much. Maybe that was the point. He had a big choice to make and boy did he love the idea of taking the dangerous unpredictable path. Stephan was danger. The businessman had according to Edward Pleasure was a brilliant strategist but without any true talents himself. He controlled and bought his various interests but was a boring corporate manager. How had Edward put it "He's no Howard Hughes. Acts like he wants to be, but lacks true dynamism or any sign of genius." Funny, the man reminded Alex of Yassen. The contradiction of the man was enticing. Deep down doubt gnawed at Alex, making his stomach churn. Alex hated his reflection and the scarred flesh was nobodies idea of a turn on. Maybe the stupid shrink was right.

Mike made small talk to his companion. The German guy spoke good english but was not a great conversationalist, his replies were guarded. Captain Jones had been told to treat the other guy as a passenger and after take off had told him to relax in the cabin if he wanted. The guy, Alexander Schmidt, had stayed and they talked of football, weather and other non controversial subjects. The young guy had been good enough to go and get coffee and snacks.

It was after 2pm when the plane landed. Alex had not expected the flight to take so long, well not a jet anyway. Canada was not that far away was it? Another assistant met Alex as he exited the plane and the car took them to a house by a lake. Alex looked at his watch, he should be home from school now. He was in deep shit. Just another set of things to worry about.

Stephan looked like he was busy. Two laptops, several open files and two assistants hovering. He immediately stopped work when he noticed Alex and smiled. "Michael, Christina please meet the son of my old friend, John. This is Alex Rider."

"Umm, Hi." Alex was still dressed in his transit clothes, disguised as a pilot.

"I think its time for a long break." Stephan looked at his watch. "Right back at work at 6 no 6:30 OK."

As the staff leave Alex does not move he just looks at Stephan.

"Is there something wrong, Alex?"

"You want me don't you?"

"Yes. I want you" said Stephan also standing calm and still.

"At the moment I really don't care if its a one time thing or more. You need to know what you are signing up for." Alex breathed deeply and dropped his bag on the floor. "We are not going to be disturbed, are we?"

"No." Stephan looked puzzled at Alex's request.

There was no sensual play, Alex just stripped off his clothes fast and methodically until he was naked. He let Stephan have a good look at him before he turned around. Alex knew each and every one of his scars intimately and felt ashamed and pained at his recent past which had reduced him to this.

Stephan moved forward and slowly walked around Alex before stopping to gently lift his chin. "You have been hurt. You have survived. These are battle scars. Yassen had plenty of scars also. The one on his neck, he was so proud of. He got that when Hunter saved his life. These all mark you as a path to adulthood surviving the games thse people made you play. You are alive. I believe that if you move beyond the shock the pain, the hurt. You become the person you are meant to be. I am cold and hard mainly becasue of those who have hurt me. You are a survivor unlike most weak and feeble sheep in this world. You have a deeper understanding of human nature."

Stephan looked into the clear brown eyes. "I want you. Oh God How I want you Alex." The business man stepped forward and moved to envelop the young man in an embrace. Alex was comforted by this simple act but also he was blatently aware of the affect of his naked body on Stephan as the older man's erection pressed into his thigh.

Alex lifted his chin more and parted his lips. The kiss was soft but Alex deepened it. It was slow deep and languid. Stephan's hands moved to cup Alex's face. The kiss ended and Alex was flushed and aroused.

"Stephan.. I'm... I've never... I'm still a virgin." Alex laughed. "Two years as a spy and I have snogged one girl. Not much of a James Bond experience."

Stephan continued to embrace this beautiful young athlete. Poise, grace and control, beauty despite his obvious suffering.

Alex gasped as Stephan began to trail soft kisses behind his ear and then nipped his earlobe.

"Don't stop. Please don't stop. I want you to show me that you desire me."

"Oh Alex I want you. I desire you." Stephan then knelt to show him exactly how he felt.

Alex watched as the older man lowered himself to his knees. Alex was about to get a blow job. The warm wet heat, the strong strokes of the tongue and then the suction. Stephan was the first to touch Alex, to taste to brink this young man pleasure. Now he did not want to let him go.

Alex had redressed after his first sexual experience. He had eaten sandwiches and drunk a bottle of coca-cola as he listened to Stephan talk of his first lover at university in Paris. A bitter sweet love affair. Alex mused on this. "I want you to show me everything. I know I'm still young, but I don't care. I've been shying away from all human contact in California. I hardly talk to my foster family. I'm an appendage not a full member of the Pleasure family. You and I have have something. Not that I know what that something is. I'm attracted by danger. You attract me like no one has."


	11. Chapter 11

Stephan arrived back at his secluded Toronto home after 1 am to find Alex asleep in his bed, naked. The TV still on the sports channel. Ahh, football. Stephan himself supported Bayern Munich much to the chagrin of his own father who had been a supporter of Paris Saint Germain. He clicked onto the news as he undressed and got ready for bed. The exhausted boy did not stir. Then again Stephan himself was too tired to contemplate more than appreciating the lithe form in his bed.

Edward read the short and very obtuse text Alex had sent. _Sorry I skipped school. Spending a few days with S. Alex._

Clara was not impressed. "Who is this S?" was practically hissed at the journalist.

"Alex's new friend. The one he keeps skipping his minders to go see. Alex is increasingly paranoid that you will try and destroy his budding friendship." Edward sighed. It was a nightmare situation. He could see the problems from both sides. Alex was too much of a free spirit to ever accept control from Clara or even himself, even if it was for his own good. The more they tried to keep Alex safe and sound, the more the young man longed for danger and the forbidden.

"Where did Alex get his mobile? Was it a gift from Smithers? We can't even get a trace on any of his calls or messages. We have no idea who he has been talking to. These friends may be harmless but we need to access the risk appropriately." stated the agent. "Do you even know his friends full name?"

"Steve. I think he's a surfer, but that is just a guess on my part. Alex wanted to see if their relationship was more than just friends." Edward watched the cogs go round in Ms. Matheson's brain.

Clara sat in her car. The missing persons alert had been placed as a high priority yesterday afternoon at 4pm, over 12 hours ago. She rang Langley with her report concluding with "Alex has stated on numerous occasions his only attraction to a member of the same sex was Yassen Gregorovich. I think this Steve is possibly as dangerous as that assassin. We have an asset who has gone AWOL. The last time Alex did that he joined Scorpia. We cannot have Rider become a danger to the United States."

"I understand your concerns and I agree with you. Alex is unlikely to be on a beach somewhere stoned and drunk. He may come home tomorrow. Then we remove him to a more secure facility. He is still psychologically damaged and at this point he could easily be turned or seduced to working freelance or against our interests. Alex Rider is a danger to the security of the United States and her allies. Hopefully we are wrong but it looks like either Alex has been turned or walked into a trap set by associates of Yassen Gregorovich. We have no confirmed intel. Let me know as soon as you have anything concrete." With that Joe Byrne cut the connection. He would inform MI6 and Interpol. The Department of Homeland Security listed Alex Rider as a terrorist suspect.

Stephan Klenkov woke to the light knock on his door. Alex beside him was alert in an instant and watched as Stephan rose and put on a robe. The businessman spoke in a soft whisper at the door with an assistant. Stephen left and told Alex not to worry and to go back to sleep. Alex had caught the words.. _security alert... all ports and airpoirts .. APB... Alexander John Rider... terrorist suspect... Scorpia_. Alex lay back down and covered his face with his hands. He picked up his phone. Stored there was his handler's number. The list of missed calls and several texts and messages came up as he switched on his phone. All forwarded from his legitimate phone still lying on his bedside table at home.

Alex called Clara.

She was in her cubicle in the Department of Homeland Security in Downtown San Francisco. Her phone rang. Number not known. She had automatically set to record and trace all incoming calls.

"Matheson"

"Hi Clara. What the hell have I done to be made America's Most Wanted? So, I skipped school to fuck my boyfriend. I know its technically a felony/misdemeanor but come off it its not exactly working actively against your interests. Its a bit of experimentation on my part. A phase I'm going through. Sleep with some guys, sleep with some girls. Being bi is not a crime even if as a fifteen year old fucking technically is. Steve likes me for me."

"Alex, you are using a state of the art untraceable, hacker proof phone. One we know Smither's did not give you. All MI6 phone's are accounted for."

"So Steve is a bit of a player. He's not Scorpia, just freelance. Its not like he's after me for my skills just my body. I quite like just being an object of attraction."

"Where are you, Alex? We will bring you and your boyfriend in and discuss your relationship. This is not a joke Alex. You need to realise if you don't we will have no option but to hunt you down."

Alex then noticed Stephen come in the room and the older man used hand signals for Alex to cut the call.

Clara Matheson swore as the line went dead. She then went to find out how far the NSA trace had got.

Alex looked at Stephan. "I should go in. I will not have these people hunt you down and destroy you."

"Alex, you will be controlled by them if you go back. You will not be allowed to go back to the Pleasures. They will either hold you in one of their maximum security holding facilities on Guantanamo, Colorado or Alaska. You don't deserve that. You deserve a life of ease with hope for the future. This is all too soon. I wanted us to get closer, to progress to be a couple."

Alex watched Stephan. "You can't protect me from them."

"I have been planning on semi-retirement. I have put in place procedures so I could manage my interests remotely. I have a good team." Stephan smiled. "Your CIA friends do not know you left the United States. You have a cover in place. We will travel to Mexico, Panama and then to one of my remoter homes. From there we can evaluate the situation. You can go to London or back to San Francisco if you want. I am only offering you the chance to live with me rather than be their pawn."

Alex was being offered a life beyond the misery planned by his bastard uncle. Stephan was the only one to realistically have a chance to give him a life beyond being an asset. "I came here to exploring my options. I like you Stephan. I think you are the only one thinking of me. Edward cannot protect me from the CIA or MI6. I have many enemies. Shit, Stephan even my friends are acting like enemies. Can you honestly out run people like Byrne and Jones?"

The older man had laughter in his eyes and a strange smile on his face. "I would like to try." Alex could seen this game, the chase and the thrill of outmanouvering the one's who had hurt John, Alex and Yassen was a chance worth taking for the strange businessman.


	12. Chapter 12

Carlos Kelenkov was young and inexperienced, green around the ears maybe, but he was by no means stupid. He had a distant relationship with his father. The distance between them had grown since Carlos had hit puberty. The young man had noticed his father shy away from physical contact as if controlling himself. Nothing was ever said and Carlos gained his own friends at boarding school and then university. He remained close to his mother and observed his father from afar. His parents had a close friendship but they were not intimate with separate suites and separate interests. Carlos at twenty-four had been given a place on the board of several of his father's companies. It had taken a while to find his feet but he was astute enough to know his father was planning semi-retirement. The Kelenkov's divorce had made his father colder and more secretive. Carlos did not know the man well at all. It seemed like overnight his father had just gone. The younger Kelenkov was determined to track the man down and find out why he had left everything behind.

Carlos looked over his father's last logged itinerary. Stephan Kelenkov had left Toronto with two pilots, a security guard and no PA. This was unusual to say the least. He got the details of the personnel to find the second pilot was a cover, a ghost. On paper this person existed but only if you took a cursory look. Alexander Schmidt had no pilots credentials and had only one months background at Datacore Industries. Carlos had printed the full file and then went back to double check the records to find they had been deleted. His father was covering his tracks. Whatever the elder Kelenkov was up to he was being very cautious. At least Carlos had a photo, which he passed on to an analyst to see just who his father was involved with.

"What are you doing, papa?" Carlos whispered under his breath and then decided to have a long chat with his mother. She knew father better than anyone. Family secrets needed to be aired.

After four days traveling, Alex and Stephan had stopped covering their tracks and were now on board a large ocean going yacht off the coast of Panama. Stephan had changed staff completely during the stop over in Mexico and making sure the boat was ready for them in Panama. They had stayed in separate hotels in Panama City with separate security. Now they knew they had not been traced and had not been followed.

Tonight, Alex was going all the way, he was going to loose his virginity. Stephan carefully planned the seduction. A massage, an enema, a shower and Alex lay in the bed, apprehensive of the task at hand. Stephan kissed Alex deeply before whispering "Relax. You must relax. First I will prepare you with my tongue and fingers."

"Tongue?" Alex was still unsure of the mechanics of anal intercourse.

"Yes beloved, lie on your stomach and I will fuck your beautiful hole with my tongue"

Alex was not convinced this was going to be pleasurable for the one on the receiving end. Stephan was huge when fully erect, it was bound to hurt a lot. The ghosting of his lover's breath on his arse was however a complete turn on. Kisses and caresses of his bottom followed by the older man parting his bum cheeks and licking along the crease. The tongue then prodded, licked, sucked and kissed. Alex gripped the pillow and groaned. It was so sensuous. Alex was completely boneless when Stephan started to stretch him with his fingers. Alex was moved on his knees to kneel, then Stephan started to fuck him. His long cock slowly entering Alex. It still burned and was uncomfortably full by the time Alex was fully penetrated. Stephan was murmuring soft reassurances in Alex's ear in French. Alex was no longer a virgin. It was slow and gentle, then Stephan shifted position slightly and Alex jumped and yelped "Oh christ do that again." and Stephan did. "Oh God, fuck me!" Alex panted. Stephan's long strokes hit that spot again and again, then the older man reached around and started to stroke Alex's cock. Three strokes and they were both coming.

Alex woke to Stephan gently cleaning him up. "I love you, Stephan."

"And I you, beloved."

Alex was happy to spend his days either in bed or on he sun deck. Stephan made Alex fully aware he was not to disturb him as he continued to work, a laptop and satellite phone meant he was up to date on all he needed to know. Alex found life as a boy toy seductive. Stephan was happy to wring pleasure from his young companion often. The silent and stony faced staff on board the boat said nothing.

The cross checking of the mysterious personnel file fell on the desk of a young freelance programmer hired directly by Carlos Kelenkov himself. Andy Jones started a search of facial recognition across known databases. Two hits came up surprisingly quickly, a missing persons report for an Alexander John Rider was a week old from San Francisco Police. Date of birth 02/13/1987. Then came up the FBI alert. The kid had terrorist connections with Scorpia and an assassin called Yassen Gregorovich.

Carlos Kelenkov read the report and could see that Schmidt listed at 26 was in fact the 15 year old runaway/terrorist. The file gathered on Yassen Gregorovich was more illuminating. Carlos remembered this Yassen from the one time they had crossed paths. When he was thirteen, his family had been skiing in Colorado and Carlos had forgotten his gloves, he had arrived back at the lodge to see the mysterious russian kissing his father. He had spied on the pair and heard his father call the man, his lover, Yassen darling. His father's old friend was a hired killer. Carlos had told his mother at the time and she had lectured her son on being more open minded and to realise his father had other needs. It had been a shock to find out his parents were not in love just good friends.

Carlos read the FBI alert and rang the number. This Alexander Rider was fifteen and listed as do not approach, dangerous. Alert the authorites if spotted. What had this boy done to become a wanted man? Was his father in danger? Carlos had a feeling this child was connected to Yassen in some way, an apprentice maybe? There were too many questions and Carlos had the feeling his father was playing a dangerous game.

The CIA search now followed the trail of 'Alexander Schmidt' traveling with Stephan Kelenkov. The pair had arrived in Panama and then the trail went cold. The team were now detailing Kelenkov's various interests and holdings across Latin and South America to track the pair. The hunt was on for Alex Rider.


	13. Chapter 13

Alex could not believe he had lived nearly a year at Caya Coco. He loved his life here. Just him and Señor Stephan, really. Alex did not fraternise with the staff. He occasionally sparred with the Russian security guards, but generally he worked out either alone or with Stephan. The villa stood overlooking a large expanse of private beach. There were no other expats here. The nearest habitation was a small village at the other side of the bay. Not that there was much there. A bar, several small houses, a few fishermen, one small shop. One of the local women acted as housekeeper, cooking, cleaning and doing laundry. Her husband looked after the garden and did general maintenance. The place was too isolated for tourists. Alex spent his days in self study and keeping fit. Stephan bought him books and stationery and the few clothes that Alex wore. Alex and Stephan generally spoke french to each other. They were both spoke fluent spanish. Stephan had even taught Alex to speak Russian and Portuguese.

Stephen had listened to Alex speak of the horrifying details of his life before. The young ex spy even spoke of of his few interactions with Yassen. The fact Alex was still alive was because the russian had refused to kill him.

His and Stephan's relationship had progressed to include situations and role play that Stephan found simulating. Rough sex, submission on Alex's part, punishment and bondage. Alex liked playing hostage. A small area in the basement was Alex's favourite place to be chained, beaten and fucked. Stephan's favourite was when Alex dressed as a boy scout encountering the big bad Scorpia agent played by Stephan. They even went camping in the wilderness and Stephan forced the bound scout to suck him off in the middle of the lush forest.

The villa was very secluded and private. The village was three kilometres away and the nearest town was twenty kilometres inland from the coast through dense forest and a dirt track over the coastal hills. Stephan's business was conducted via computer link and satellite phone. A boat visited with changes of security staff and supplies every month.

The staff and the villagers all knew of Stephan's very young companion. Most locals did not care what the foreign devils did. Maria had offered Alex the address of a local priest saying Stephan was bad for him. Alex had tried to explain to the woman's look of horror that Stephan truly loved Alex. Stephan told him the fact several times a day. Alex had overheard a couple of the Russian security guards trying to guess how much Alex had cost, deducing that the boy had been bought from traffickers. A virgin boy of Western extraction was a highly sought after commodity. Alex knew some of the staff and locals had observed them exercising on the beach or fucking on the terrace.

Alex was still patiently waiting for his final growth spurt. He was a respectable 1.78m tall, slim and athletic. Stephan had told him, John Rider had been over 1.80m tall. Alex was already taller than his uncle. Ian had been 1.75m tall. Alex could barely grow sparse fuzz on his chin, which could not be called a beard and Stephan teased him about how he longed for full manhood. Sixteen, nearly 17. Sometimes Alex reminisced about his former life, K-unit, Fox, Tom and Sabina. Thoughts of London or San Francisco were few and far between. He'd rather plan on his next orgasm. At the moment he was walking to Stephan's office wearing only collar and cuffs, deserving a good spanking for disturbing his master at work. Alex knelt by the door patiently as Stephan finished his conversation over the video link. Oh yes, Alex wasn't just spanked, he was caned as well. Alex knew he was pushing Stephan but the man was tense and need a release. Alex would give his lover a nudge to indulge his darker masterful best.

Alex was sore and bruised. He already done half an hour of katas to loosen up his stiff limbs. He went out to the pool naked and did laps, still wearing his collar and cuffs. This fact alone would be praying on Stephan. That his lover was parading about his property in full view of the staff, naked covered in his marks.

On the hillside above the CIA operative had a live feed of video detailing the missing asset from his camouflaged vantage point providing intel direct to Langley and his team mates on the attack sub in the bay. All of them hidden and unobserved. With hacked feeds from the house's own security system. The operative got a glimpse of the other man, the owner, who stood with his back to the operative mostly sheltered by the veranda.

Alex seductively approached Stephan and kissed him, only to fall to the ground after being backhanded brutally with no warning. Stephan grabbed Alex's hair twisting his head to face him. The older man then let go and Alex dropped to the ground in complete supplication. Stephan then spoke softly that Alex was too tempting. He could not work with him being a complete tease. Alex smiled at his lover despite with tears in his eyes, he then knelt and proceeded to suck the man's cock.

The operative had recognised Alex Rider, who he had worked with and debriefed in Egypt over a eighteen months ago, when he started his observations two days ago. His unit had been assigned to search for him last year by Joe Byrne. Alex had dropped off the face of the Earth last January. They had initially thought he had been recruited by another agency or had decided to go freelance. The intel had shown Alex had been groomed by a fifty year old businessman, a known associated of Scorpia. Here the teenager was a slave for an ex-pat billionaire, getting beaten and sexually assaulted every day. Alex looked worse for wear. Hopefully the extraction would take place tonight. The operative prayed he got to take down that sick fuck, Kelenkov.

Stephan looked pensive when Alex studied him during another example of spectacular blow jobs Alex had given his lover. The older man connected Alex's cuffs behind his back and dragged him to the basement. Alex instinctively knew something had upset Stephan. Probably Carlos, who had had been found out about Alex and told his father he was a sick pedophile. Stephan was upset mostly by the fact his son had stopped returning his messages. Alex silently accepted the brutal beating. Stephan left him chained up to return to his work. Alex was whimpering by the time Stephan came back after several hours. Alex guessed it was after dark. Alex was then chained to the bed. Stephan then took out a knife. Blood play was normally a thing of slow torment not the controlled infliction of all that Yassen had taught Stephan. Something bad must have happened for his lover to need such an extreme release. The fucking proceeded with no preparation or lubricant and left Alex torn and bloody.

Stephan left Alex in the cellar, which was sound proof and brightly lit. Alex drifted into unconsciousness with the assurance that by the morning Stephan would be completely calm and would treat him like the most precious thing in the universe until every welt and bruise was healed. Alex loved these periods of delicate care, gentle love making and devotion. It would be another month to six weeks before Stephan became vicious again. He had only broken Alex's wrist once. Stephan's brutal side had never left permanent damage since then. That was the only time his older lover had apologised.


	14. Chapter 14

Alex instinctively knew something was wrong. He was too sluggish and lethargic. That familiar feeling of being tranquilized. Stephan had rarely drugged Alex. Only on the couple of occasions outsiders had visited and Alex been kept hidden and unconscious. Bile rose in Alex's throat, hands were touching him. There was a cloth on his face. Alex retched, spewing his last light meal over himself. Voices, disjoined, strange to hear English spoken again. Alex knew he was moving, being carried. He heard lapping of waves and a quiet outboard engine coming to life. Unconsciousness claimed him again.

Alex dreamt of Yassen and Stephan, both of them beautiful and dangerous. Even heavy sedation he could feel the parting gift Stephan had left him. No part of his body did not hurt. Alex would sell his soul at this moment for Stephan to hide him away again. He called to him. "Stephan, beloved, I love you. Stephan! Please fuck me. I am empty without you. Please."

The kid in the med bay was talking french and russian in his sleep. Pleading for his tormentor, his rapist to use him. Mike Henderson felt sick. It had been twelve months since the kid had disappeared on his way to school. The special forces raid on the north coast of Uruguay had been a quick in and out. The Rider kid was an absolute mess. The plastic surgeon had his work cut out with the mess of knife cuts on the kid's body. The shrink would be working even harder. How to turn a normal heterosexual soccer loving British kid into a submissive fuck toy who let the bastard cut him to shreds, beat and abuse him and still ask for more.

The tox screen had come back to show trace amounts of Rohyptanol, sodium thiopental and valium in Rider's bloodstream. The kid had been fed a cocktail of drugs, to keep him compliant. The doctors were monitoring him closely for signs of withdrawal.

Alex woke so thirsty. Hospital. St. Dominic's? He'd been shot again? No he hurt all over. No, he'd definitely been tortured. His head was fuzzy. Thoughts were disjointed. He must have been drugged. Alex let out a big sigh trying to sort out his thoughts, not wanting to open his eyes. He could feel restraints, an oxygen mask, a catheter in his arm and one in his dick. His emotionless mask slipped, tears and a choked sob escaped. He curled his hands allowing nails to dig into his palms. Pain was an excellent focus. He then pulled on the restrains on his arms. Padded. He could feel the abrasions on his wrists chaffing sending small shocks up his arms.

Alex opened his eyes to look at the person approaching him. "Good Morning, My name if Elouise, I'm you nurse." She reached forward with a tissue wiping the tears from Alex's face. "Would you like some ice chips?" Alex looked confused and then quickly nodded his head. Eloise fed him ice as she asked questions "Can you tell me your name?

Alex remained silent. "Do you know what date it is?" then asked the nurse with a quiet southern american accent.

Alex then spoke in spanish "My name is Alex. I'm sorry but I don"t know the date. Where am I?"

The nurse then answered in fluent Cuban Spanish "You're currently at the US Naval base at Gauantanmo Bay."

Alex looked confused. "I don't understand?"

"Don't worry you're safe. You have had surgery on your wounds. I'll put the call button in your right hand. Press it if you need anything. I'll go get breakfast sorted OK?"

Alex again nodded.

Alex noted all the staff he saw were female. Alex spoke only in spanish and russian. he refused to speak english. He remained calm and passive so the restraints were removed. Alex curled into a ball his side, away from the door and made himself as small a target as possible.

The initial psychological assessment of showed that Alex Rider spoke positively of his relationship with Stephan Kelenkov, even the more extreme violence and sex. Alex accepted his treatment as it kept his lover happy. The reality was a harsh regime of drugs and behaviour modification being used to break him over an extended period of time. Grooming, torture, rapes and periods of understanding, gentleness and kindness. The drugs making Alex open and compliant. Alex had developed codependancy with his torturer. Alex had convinced himself this was a mutually loving relationship. His psyche protecting himself from the harsh levels of punishment. Stockholm Syndrome and Anxious (avoidant) personality disorder were noted.

The failure to apprehend Stephan Kelenkov did not worry Byrne. Intel from Uruguay stated the billionaire had died in a house fire two days after they extracted Alex. The Police there had treated the foreigner's death as accidental. The CIA's local agent had said Kelenkov had been rounded up by the locals and burnt as a satan worshiper. Maria the housekeeper had told all about what the rich man had done to the poor drugged boy who lived there and had disappeared. The villagers had wanted to protect their own sons from the foreign devil.

Alex had been sedated and moved to a new facility for long term care. He was here for debriefing and hopefully healed. The psychiatrist was very petite and had short red hair. Marsha spoke only in english and had instructed all the staff only to converse with Alex in english. She asked why he would not speak in english.

Alex then whispered in english, so quietly she had to move closer to hear him. "Good boys obey. Stephan wants me only to speak russian or spanish to strangers. I don't want correction."

"What did Stephan do to correct you?"

Alex schooled his emotionless mask. "Stephan could do anything he wanted. He owned me. I obeyed because there was no escape. He only corrected me a couple of times. Have you ever been tortured by pressure points?"

"No Alex. What was it like?"

"I could show you, but I won't. Its not nice. He did it for three hours. Its possibly the worst thing anyone has ever done to me and I've been tortured before. He broke me in three hours. I begged him to stop." Alex closed his eyes "Then he called me a strong boy. The last person he tortured lasted forty minutes. I was a mere child witheld so long." Alex then started to cry. His life was over. What would the future bring? More blackmail and coercion from MI6 or the CIA. Marsha stroked his head and soothed him.

After the initial session, Alex had opened up and spoken freely with Marsha. Several sessions had progressed with Alex becoming comfortable in her presence.

Ben Daniels looked over the video feed. There was almost no resemblance of the kid in the interview room to the bright, sarcastic teenager who had crossed Ben's paths previously. Ben looked at the face of the CIA chief, Joe Byrne looked equally as sad. Alex Rider had been an excellent operative. A year with a trained torturer and sadist had destroyed the boy they had known.

Thankfully, the intel from Carlos Kelenkov meant they had traced Alex, who had been so lucky he had got out. Without the information Alex would never have been found. The ownership of the House in Uruguay had been hidden under a trail of false companies to a little used Russian Bank Account in the name of Yassen Gregorovich. The house had once been the hiding place of the assassin left after his death to his lover, Stephan Kelenkov.

Carlos Kelenkov had inherited a vast amount of wealth but the death of his father had left him bitter. He passively accepted the messages of condolence at his mother's house in Buenos Aries. His father was not the man everyone portrayed him to be in the newspaper articles and obituaries. Carlos then thought a true biography, warts and all was due for his father. His real friends had been killers and blackmailers. His father had been sick and twisted. That poor boy his father had ensnared and enslaved. Carlos was paying for Alexander Rider's treatment and he received updates on his progress, still too soon to know how long Alex would be hospitalised. The young Kelenkov would now start foundations giving his father's wealth away. Blood money would help as his father had destroyed.


	15. Chapter 15

The shrink met with the CIA man who was acting as temporary guardian for Alexander Rider. Marsha Pendleton had grown to like the quiet, serious young man in her care. She relayed that Alex had been remarkably resourceful, determined and his coping mechanisms have been unusual to say the least. Alex constructed a fantasy world for companionship, support and self help. There were some complications because of this Alex has started to become confused between reality and his delusions. As a result Alex preferred to remain isolated and alone and was unwilling to deconstruct his idea of perfection and happiness he had created around Stephan Kelenkov. Alex now associates all positive aspects of a sexual relationship with bondage and pain. Alex's responses have been shaped also by the cumulative use of Rohypanol as well as other recreational drugs. His memory recall of the last 11 months is patchy at best and influenced by his fantasies. Statements regarding his rapes and torture are vague and contradictory. Alex states he was willing to have his virginity taken and that he enjoyed all aspects of his sexual relationship, but at that point he had been broken mentally and physically by torture.

"Stephan wasn't all bad. He could fuck. Played my body like an instrument. Pain and pleasure. I think my idea of sex is now so totally screwed up. I don't know if I could fuck a girl. I've stopped having wet dreams about the opposite sex." Alex remembered his fantasies about Sabina, kissing her, wanting her. "Can you just stop liking girls like that?"

"Did you fantasise it was Yassen taking you not Stephan." God that was a load question from the shrink.

Alex bit his lip. "Yes." Alex blushed as he answered.

"You used to be sexually attracted to girls?" Marsha asked

"Yeah. I had such a crush on Sahara when I was thirteen. Then there was Sabina. She was the first and only girl I've kissed. We dated briefly. I liked some of the girls at school in London as well, not that they would talk to a loser like me" Alex frowned remembering California and his failed integration back into normal life.

"Do you have wet dreams, Alex?"

"Yes."

"Can you described them?"

"My last one. I told you Yassen talked to me in my dreams. I dreamt I was Yassen's pet, not Stephan's."

"Pet?"

"Pet, slave, fuck toy, plaything. Pick your noun." Alex said for once enjoying playing word games.

"Not lover?"

"No." Alex could just not see Yassen as anything but cold and cruel. He tried not to think of his death at all.

"Was the sex in your dream consensual or non-consensual sex?"

"Umm, non-consensual? Maybe. Its kind of a turn on being tied up, beaten and fucked." Alex lay back and thought on sex. "Am I bisexual or gay? I haven't thought about a girl in such a long time. Just my fucking luck to be a shirt lifting queer."

"Would you hate yourself if you were only attracted to males?"

"I don't know. Am I attracted? I like getting off. Maybe its just experience. I have only Stephan as my point of reference. I don't even know if Yassen liked me like that. I'm just confused 'cause he said he loved me. He always called me a child, and compared me to my father. Is it totally sick to be attracted to your father's friend, who incidently murdered your uncle."

"Your father was friends with Yassen?"

"He taught him. My dad's codename was Hunter, when he was with Scorpia. He was an assassin like Yassen. He was undercover for MI6, its complicated." Complicated, now Alex knew that was the biggest understatement in the world. His life was a nightmare, never mind complicated. Alex got up and looked out of the window at the pine forest. "Am I here forever now?"

"Why are you asking?"

Alex shrugged "I don't have anywhere to go. Here is as good as anywhere I suppose. Have I been committed for my own safety?" Alex quite liked his regimented isolation. Not paradise but he did not have to think, just exist.

"Your here for your own security at the moment."

"Right. All girls here, no boys." Alex was separate from others here. He saw his assigned staff. He was a low security inmate in the high security facility. He could see the main building in the distance screened by high razor wire fences patrolled by guards and dogs.

"We thought you'd be more comfortable with no visible threats."

"Threats? Oh Right. Do you think I'd freak out if I was in close proximity with another male?" Alex frowned. Maybe he would? He did not know.

"Alex you have spent over eleven months almost exclusively in Stephan Kelenkov's company."

"Am I officially dead?" Alex asked.

"Why do you ask that?"

"No MI6, here. Have they buried me next to Ian? Alex Rider, teenage fuck-up and Junkie. May he rest in peace."

"Junkie?"

"Just rumours at school in London. I was never there after MI6 got their claws into me." Alex was still upset how his friends, team mates and class mates had turned against him. Their reactions had compounded his own internal isolation.

"Did Stephan force you to take drugs?" the doctor asked as if ticking off a list of standard questions.

Alex looked wild eyed for a moment, before answering truthfully at the few times Stephan had insisted they party. "Ecstasy, some other recreational shit. Cocaine. I quite like cocaine. Makes sex very frantic, exciting." Alex lit another cigarette.

"So no drugs previously."

"A couple of drags on a joint before Ian died. After that my life was too out of control. That and all the shit people were saying about me in school." It seemed strange to discuss events in London. That little boy had almost nothing in common with Alex now. "I'm babbling aren't I. I wish they'd just start the interrogation and debrief me. What I said, when I did what and how it felt. Stephan only kept me for entertainment. His personal entertainment. I was not allowed near his phone, his computer or his safe. I wasn't allowed further into his office than the door. Other than that it was the bedroom, the den, the terrace or the basement. I was with Stephan at all other times". Alex pulled at his hair welcoming the pain to centre himself.

He pressed his face against the cool glass. "Have you been using pain to focus yourself long, Alex."

"Like forever. Bring the bad guys in I want it over with."

Alex looked worn out and tense when he faced off the shrink, the two CIA guys and Fox.

"Shall we get this started?" stated the old CIA guy, playing good cop. "Interview start 21st February 2004, 10:14am. State your name date and place of birth and a few personal details."

"My name is Alexander John Rider. I was born in London on the 13th January 1987. I support Chelsea Football Club. My favourite food is Pepperoni pizza and my favourite drink is coca cola. My favourite film is Princess Bride."

Fox spoke "really?"

"It was Jack's favourite. It was our special life's fucked up lets relax film." Alex said easily, talking of a time when his life had been semi-normal.

Then the questioning started. It was just like therapy. The shrink was obviously calling the shots.

"Ok Alex tell us how you met Stephan.." and on it went.

"You never interacted with the perimeter security staff."

"Sparred a couple of times with Stephan watching. They and the rest of the staff were ordered to ignore me. I spoke a couple of times with the housekeeper. She passed me a note with a safehouse address on it. Nosy old bag, said Stephan was bad for me."

"He was" was the stern statement of fact from Ben.

Alex looked at his ex-team mate, but never a friend. As much an abuser as Stephan, at least Alex had thought he loved Stephan. Alex was sure he was too much of a nutcase to ever know love, it was fantasy, a delusion and a hallucination. "It was my choice to go with Stephan and my choice to stay. He loved me. Everyday he called me beloved. I chose Stephan. He protected me from you bastards. I fucking hate you all so much. Stephan is dead and I have nothing ... nothing!" Alex then began to regress into his self hatred. Muttering almost chanting that Stephan loved him. He was sedated before another question was asked.

Marsha was sitting by him when he awoke. "Alex we've decided to send you home with Mr Daniels. I know your strong. You will recover from this. You must discuss all your worries with your therapist there. You must accept your sexuality and find someone to make you happy. Do you understand? They should put you first. Girl or boy."

"Yes Marsha."

"Don't keep blaming yourself about what happened, OK."

"I'm not a victim. I made my own mistakes. What is so wrong about me falling for Stephan?"

"Alex.. He controlled you. Conditioned you. Relationships are based on trust, love, honesty and respect. He treated you like a slave. Alex you deserve to be loved without boundaries or rules to live by. What Stephan offered was as far from love as you can get. You loved him. He manipulated and abused you in return."


	16. Chapter 16

Going home on a commercial flight was unreal. At least it was business class. Alex ate his and Ben's meals and then Alex slept.

At Heathrow they were escorted into a side corridor for the welcoming committee of two SAS thugs and John Crawley.

"You look well Alex." said the blank faced pasty middle aged man.

Alex suddenly hated the fact he was back in England. Straight back into MI6's loving arms. "Like fuck I do. Go screw yourself Crawley and take your two boyfriends with you."

"Get out of bed on the wrong side." said one of the faceless SAS men. Alex could not recall his name or his face, but they could have crossed paths.

"Yeah for the past fifteen months. What can I say I love Scorpia and CIA hospitality. So are you lot starting with truth drugs or the softly softly approach?"

"Standard debriefing at a safe house Agent Rider." said Crawley emotionlessly with a grim expression on his face, almost a smile but more of a grimace.

"Agent? Like fuck I work for you. I'm so burned you should feel the heat from here." Alex spat. Hate blazing on the snarl gracing his young face.

"Well. Lets get going." Crawley drawing an end to the conversation as the two SAS grunts latched on to Alex, gripping his arms and manhandling him out of the airport to the awaiting car. Alex noted that Ben had not said a thing. Not even goodbye. Proving once again that the ex-SAS man was not a friend, never a friend. It was all business and work.

After four hours of question and answers with the three interrogators on the debriefing team, Alex was left alone with his baby sitters. An SAS team Alex had had no contact with before.

Alex was uninterested in TV or reading. He sat and stared at the shadows on the wall. His strange behaviour seemed to spook his companions. As a teenager, he was meant to loud, obnoxious and rebellious. His year in Caya Coco had left Alex to appreciate silence, watching the waves and waiting; waiting for Stephan and his wants and desires.

Mark had broken the golden rule and told Alex his real name to break the ice. "So, Cub, Alex, how old are you?"

Alex quirked at this direct question. "Seventeen".

"You were a prisoner of that Scorpia sympathizer for 12 months?"

"I suppose. I was more pet than prisoner."

"Pet?."

"I was a special case. I became a slave for my abductor, torturer, rapist, master."

"As in sex slave? Jesus, kid."

Alex studied Mark. Twenty-five ish as a good guess, fit, not bad to look at. He was being friendly. Alex smiled and leaned back relaxing. "So do you want to fuck?"

"Christ kid, are you insane." said the soldier, moving back out of Alex's personal space.

"No just horny. Any of you guys into bondage?" Alex looked earnestly at the three stunned faces. "No. Guess I'll go wank in the shower. See you later."

Alex was watched as he showered and dressed, and later as he slept and ate. He was not alone for a second. At breakfast Alex talked again. "So I'm on suicide watch"

"Well kid, the last agent that was extracted from Scorpia hospitality is still in Harlsden Hall." said oldest SAS operative with a bad moustache and brutal haircut.

"Whats that? Top Secret Loony Bin?" Alex had quite liked his stay at the loony bin in Montana.

"Thats correct. High security, Very isolated"

"I guess thats where I'm headed."

Alex was actually pleasantly surprised when Mrs. Jones turned up and offered Alex another future.

The stern woman sat and drank tea with Alex. The silence itself was comforting until Tulip Jones explained the terms of Alex's future. "We have arranged tutors for you to catch up and take your GCSE's. You'll be in therapy at St. Dominic's and you'll be staying with Mr. Daniels. He has volunteered to act as temporary guardian until you're 18. We hope you'll take AS and A' Levels and maybe try for Cambridge.

"You lot are offering a normal life for me now?" Alex then did something he hadn't done for over a year, he broke down completely and cried. Tulip Jones comforted the broken boy before her. She made a promise to make sure Alex would have all the support he needed from now on.

The SAS guys had relaxed. Alex was going to his new life tomorrow with Fox. Alex went t his room. Mark looked in briefly to see Alex reading one of the few books in the house, Great Expectations, before returning to the poker game.

The sound of the noisy banter stopped as Mark won another hand. Si was on his way up to check on Alex when all listened and heard the shower. So the kid was having a shower. Si walked into the kid's room and then into the small shower room any to notice the splash of red and a slumped unconscious Cub in the base of the shower.


	17. Chapter 17

Sabina Pleasure was on a mission. She was going to save Alex from himself and she had three months to accomplish this before she started uni. She was going to bring him back from the personal prison he had constructed for himself. Three suicide attempts in as many months. Alex currently drugged so much he acted like a zombie with the reflexes of a rag doll, lost most of the time to his own thoughts, retreated into his shell where he was safe from hurt and betrayal. With careful detective work and having gone through he dad's meticulous notes, Sabina had a list of Alex's friends. She had spoken to a retired SAS sergeant who was visiting Alex tomorrow, but today she was meeting with the staff and Alex's few former classmates that were studying A levels at Brookland, including Tom Harris. Hopefully the grapevine would turn up more friends, but Sabina had a strange feeling that only Tom would come through for Alex. Tom had been party to the big secret, to Alex being used by MI6.

Sabina decided to go for the jugular with the headmaster to being with. "Good morning , Mr Bray. I am here to discuss a former pupil. I read in you school mission statement that you like to keep track of all former students and support them in their future ventures. You have a wonderful statement on the prevention of bullying and offering support to pupils with personal difficulties. So, can you tell me how these school policies failed my foster brother, so completely when he was here. I'm sure you remember Alex, Alexander John Rider. He was a pupil here from 1998 to 2002."

Dawning crossed Mr. Bray's face, Alex Rider not a pupil he would ever forget. A student to serial truant and trouble maker. Arson, assaults and that last incident, when Tom Harris had been shot. "Alex Rider would have been expelled for his poor attendance record and other problems if he had not chosen to change schools at that point. From what I gather he did not last long at school in Cairo or San Francisco. So I do keep track of my former pupils." countered the hard faced headmaster. The Rider Boy had been bad news and he'd been glad to see the back of him.

Sabina changed tack and went for hard truth "Alex's guardian Jack Starbright was murdered by terrorists in Cairo in June 2002. It was all connected to the sniper incident here. The security services sent Alex and Jack to Cairo for protection and the same bunch who tried to kill him here got to them there. Alex was abducted and tortured, but escaped only after Jack died. Alex was fostered by my parents after his initial stay in St. Dominic;'s fir treatment for PTSD. In San Francisco, Alex ran away while he was suffering from advanced paranoid depression and had an undiagnosed personality disorder. He is currently sectioned at Harlsden Hall Psychiatric Unit after a series of suicide attempts. His illness was not helped by the situation he found himself in, changing schools, loosing all his friends after his uncle died, loosing Jack. He was delusional when he ran away, where he was raped and assaulted on multiple occasions. It was rape before you say anything because he was mentally ill and infatuated with the man who had taken him in." The young girl's list of tricks now had her dab her eyes at the tears, which came easily when thinking of Alex. "I want to try and break Alex out of the shell he's built around himself. I visit often with my parents but Alex just stares into space. I think if he knew he had friends he might respond. He needs something to give him hope, a connection anything really away from all the pain and hurt of the last three years." Sabina blew her nose and looked at the headmaster. "I would like to talk to James Hale and Tom Harris to see if they'll agree to visit him. Maybe some of Alex's old teachers would come as well. I hate the fact he's so withdrawn. The Alex I met in May 2001 was vibrant, independent and strong. I want that Alex back."

Sabina pulled out Alex's medical file to show Henry Bray. More hard facts. Edward had gotten a copy after Alex's assessment at St. Dominic's in May. Two months in Harlsden Hall had seen two further bouts of self harm, moving him from the open to the secure ward. Henry Bray read through the notes. Grief, PTSD, Paranoid Depression, Acute Personality Disorder. Sabina gave the man time to digest the notes before adding "Alex should have been in therapy after he failed to deal with his uncle's death in March 2001. He was farmed off to Ian Rider's work colleagues, but Ian left no instructions for Alex's future. It took nearly two years for Ian's estate to be settled and put in trust for Alex. By that time Alex had run off. Things in San Francisco were not going great with my parents. Alex was afraid and hurt and at that point was so jaded with adults he was used to looking after himself, being alone." Sabina shifted and crossed her legs. "I only wish to talk. It is highly likely that no one will want to help Druggie Rider and yes I know all about the name calling, silent treatment and whispers that Alex suffered here. He was ostracized and none of the staff offered to listen or help Alex. At Presidio High, Alex was too used to no one caring. The offered counseling was too little too late."

"Well Miss Pleasure. I find myself agreeing that no one noticed that Alex was ill here. We thought he was just a trouble maker. It says he was an A grade student at school in California. Such a waste of potential. I will take you down to see the the Year 12's in their common room."

Tom recognised Sabina Pleasure straight away. She was still as beautiful as when Alex had first introduced her the week he got back from Australia.

"Sabina.. How's things? I haven't heard from Alex since he went to Cairo. How are he and Jack? Safe and well I hope."

Sabina looked shocked and stunned. Tom knew nothing. "Oh God Tom... Jack was killed by Scorpia in Cairo. Alex has not been himself since. He's in hospital... psychiatric hospital."

One of the other boys then pipped up "So its Loony Rider, not Druggie Rider then."

Sabina turned to face the jeering asshole. "Alex watched his sister in all but name be blown up by terrorists. He watched her burn and die and every day since has felt it should have been him who died. Alex was never a druggie, he was grieving and had to suffer various foster placements and the uncertainity of his future because his uncle had never considered writing a will. He was unhappy and became a serial truant and runaway. He ran away again last year. He was placed back in supervised care and tried to kill himself. He is my foster brother and I will not give up on him. Not like most of the people here."

Tom sat down heavily. "Christ.. I thought they were in witness protection. Not that everything had gone to hell." Tom ran his hands down his face. "I got a postcard from him in Cairo saying he and Jack had settled in, that school was great and that he was not likely to come back to Brookland. That he liked it there. I tried to track him down but then I realised he'd have a new name and everything."

Sabina sat and put her hand on Tom's arm to comfort him, "Are you free, we should go and have lunch somewhere away from the bullies and gossips."

Tom like a robot just agreed still in shock at the revelation that Alex was a mental patient and kind, gentle, cookie Jack was dead, "Umm sure, Sabina. Whatever."


	18. Chapter 18

Alex sat in his usual chair staring not at the television but at the wall, he was not here, not really, he was lost in memories of paradise with his Stephan. Alex had hated the safehouse and St. Dominic's, where he'd tried to kill himself the second time. They only truly caught on to how sneaky he actually was at Harlsden Hall. The attempt at hanging himself was a one way ticket from low security open ward to the locked high security ward and drugged out of your head bliss. Alex ignored everyone and acted like an automaton. The staff spoke of catatonia but Alex was waiting for his next opportunity. They would make a mistake, they would underestimate him and he would be free. He tried not to think about Edward, Liz and Sabina. They had been visiting for the last three weeks. Alex was crippled by his guilt for leaving, for loosing faith, for being here, nutty as a fruitcake. He watched the shadows shifting on the wall, meditating to get to his calm inner peace.

Alex noticed someone reading next to him, he recognised the voice speaking with a flat northern accent. He moved and looked to see a man he honestly never expected to see again as long as he lived, the SAS Sergeant who had named him Cub. Alex then noted he was reading about the Premier League final from the paper.

In a strange raspy whisper Alex spoke for the first time in weeks. "Hello Sergeant. Come to tell me I'm binned? 'Cause this time I definitely am".

The Sergeant looked at Cub. The nurse in attendance had just got up and left, so Alex talking was a good thing. The Sergeant had been told Alex had stopped interacting with his surroundings after placement in the closed ward.

"Good Afternoon, Cub. I was very surprised when your foster sister tracked me down and told me you were crook."

"Crook?" Alex mused on this strange word spoken in the northern dialect of the Sergeant.

"Ill. Been here myself with PTSD after my time in Kuwait. I was a mess but I got better." explained the ex-soldier. "Your foster sister spun quite a tale. One Fox corroborated. MI6 have been a real bunch of shits to you."

Alex snorted at the older man cutting through all the bull shit. The one thing he was sick of was kind words, psycho babble and people telling him the reality of his stupid decisions. Alex held onto his life as it had been his choice. After nearly two years of being buffeted by circumstance Alex had done something for purely selfish reasons. Maybe all the wrong reasons but Stephan had wanted him alone with no hidden agenda or mission to take over the world or cause mass death and destruction. Alex had been Stephan's and that had been enough, all he had wanted, bad and good, rough and smooth.

The unit doctor, Vaz, had been speaking gently to the silent boy during their daily sessions to get no response. It was the same when the foster family visited. Here he was talking to a stranger, a casual acquaintance, who Alex had only interacted briefly with nearly three years previously. The young man spoke softly and was fully aware of his surroundings as if his period of complete withdrawal was inconsequential.

The sergeant had left after his allotted half hour with the promise of a visit next week. Alex looked at the bemused expression on the doctor and nurses faces. "He was the Sergeant at Special Forces training camp. The one person you never pissed off, ignored or talked back to. I recognised his voice when he was reading. I .. I didn't realise I'd been that bad. I was aware of Edward, Liz, Sabina being here and you guys talking but I didn't feel like interacting. Childish huhh?"

The doc came in and sat next to Alex, not wanting to miss the opportunity when Alex was talking and lucid. "Alex, you have gone from progressing nicely when you were evaluated by Martha in the States to being self destructive and catatonic here. Whats going on with you, Alex? What changed in coming to London to loose hope and want to die? You nearly died, you realise. You were in shock and critical by the time you got to hospital."

Alex sat back and composed himself, collecting his thoughts. "Mrs. Jones visited me at the safe-house, wherever that was. She spoke of my options, she offered me a chance to finish school, maybe uni, staying with Fox, he's ex-SAS and now MI6. She offered me a normal life. Even in California normal, you know school and family, came with a price from the CIA, they expected my co-operation and continued use as an asset. Mrs Jones," Alex's face contorted into a sneer when talking about the head of MI6 special operations "Tulip, was offering me everything I wanted with Jack. I kind of broke at that point. Its like everything was too much and I wanted it all to end. I know I'm talking and such but I still want it all to end. I have lost everything that mattered. Stephan mattered, I may be a nut job but I loved him. Everyone now views me as some sad victim. I was more a victim of MI6 and the CIA. I knew what I was getting with Stephan. It was selfish and destructive but it was my choice. I kept up with my school work by self study. I was planning on getting SAT's and my high school equivalency. I was planning ahead for when Stephan grew bored with me. He would have. I'm not Yassen, just something to warm his bed. I never expected anything in return from him. He gave me all that he could give. I was happy with that. Cruel, manipulative, kind and caring. He was a contradiction but it was my choice."

The doctor processed the slightly manic stream of words just spouted by Alex.

"Doc, Vaz I guess I've acted a bit out there, I was totally unhappy about being packed off to Fox. I wanted another option and death seemed to be a viable option. Stupid, stupid stupid. Jack would have my ass for thinking like that. You've all been patient and allowed me space to think. Its been calm here. I like calm. I feel safe. I am safe here, aren't I"

The doctor smiled, his patient had withdrawn into himself to assess the threat. Having been used so thoroughly, Alex had no trust left. The Sergeant was one person who stood apart he had been exactly what he was and nothing more, a task driver caught in the situation at Brecon by orders. His being here had shown Alex not everyone was the enemy. Vas Kahn now knew how careful he had to be to get Alex to trust in this safe haven before moving forward to becoming independent and well.


	19. Chapter 19

Alex sat and waited for his interview to start. He was nervous. He'd was waiting for the verdict that he was a fucking nutcase and be told university was no place for a headcase like him. He took out his notebook and read over his list of personal goals. He had five decent A Levels, which had been more a case of putting together the required coursework because the exams had been a breeze. Alex knew he was intelligent and he had finally gained some control and self esteem. He just had to impress during his interview and this autumn he would be a lowlife student. Tom complained incessantly about students. His friend had only sat A Levels to please his mother, he was now as trainee electrician working on building sites and in the commercial sector. Tom preferred college one day a week to get his professional qualification telling Alex that day release was much better than wasting time being a complete boffin. Alex wanted to get a degree, not that he was sure what he wanted to do with his life apart from never be in a mental home again. Even now he lived in a half way house with some borstal boys, most residents however, were recovering drug addicts, alcoholics and anorexics. Being a looney had been the fruition of his time with MI6. At the Cresswell Centre, Alex was not the only teenager working his way back to being normal from a serious mental breakdown as the professionals had come to describe Alex's life between fifteen and seventeen. He was now nineteen, an age he never thought he'd live to see.

The interview panel read the file on the resident of the Cresswell Centre. The half way house was one of about a dozen spread around the country run by a small charity dedicated to the rehabilitation of teenagers, who for various reason's had lost their way. Alexander Rider had five A Levels, one at A* the rest A's in langiages. Alex was described as working best with individually using self-motivated study. The history of running away and truancy had mared his school record. The School of Eastern European and Slavoinc Studies could cater for individual needs. Alex had a three wonderful character references from a journalist, a employee of interpol and an security consultant. Dr Marek Labinsky knew there was more to this potential student than met the eye. Alexander Rider's russian was fluent and tone perfect, with a slight Smolensk accent. Unusual, most student of A Level Russian from London had a standardised vocabulary and no nuances of a native speaker.

"So Alex, who taught you russian? I guess from your fluency a family member."

"Umm, No. Ian, my uncle, brought me up speaking french, german and spanish. My housekeeper spoke those languages as well as a bit of Japanese. I learnt russian from a friend of my dad's when I was fifteen/sixteen." Alex inwardly cringed, friend? Alex still was in two minds over Stephan. The guy had been psychotic, deranged, disturbed, whatever. Alex had not been that sane either.

"So have you been to Russia?"

"Yeah, Moscow and Murmansk. Only a short visit. Didn't see much. I'd really like to go back and sight see a bit. St. Petersburg looks very pretty. I've read about the Great Patriotic war and stuff. I think a visit to Stalingrad would be cool as well."

"We suggest at least a term or a summer vacation spent in either Russia or one of its neighbours."

"Yeah. I contacted a friend of a friend about charity work. I haven't heard back yet." Alex had written to Genady Valashenko, the Russian Security Services Section Chief in Moscow who had debriefed him after the Sarov business. Alex did not expect him to write back, but it was worth a try.

"We expect you to turn up for lectures and tutorials. We have set essays and exams that must be completed. You have a fully funded placement curtesy of the Army Benevolent Fund."

"Yeah my dad was in the Army."

Marek noted Alex was not much of a talker. "So any questions or personal goals for studying."

"The course load and stuff are pretty straight forward. I guess I'm worried I won't fit in. I stopped main stream school at 15. My GCSE's and A Levels were done as a patient at Harlsden Hall. I still feel like a bit a freak really. I finally got to love studying because there was nothing else to do. I still find it all a bit daunting , you know living back in London. Dan at Cresswell thinks me living there for first year is a good idea, but I'm worried that with the tag on my ankle and my curfew, other students are going to think I'm a pikey or something."

"I spoke to Dan Bellamy, he's certain you won't have a tag on when you start here. You have a full time job at the moment and are coping. So, Cresswell is only a place of residence. Try to make friends with your fellow students. At least one or two I'm sure you will get along with. I see that you are a keen cyclist and runner. Taking up sports is a good way to make friends."

The interview ended. Alex was certain it was cut and dried, the lecturer had stated he had a fully funded bursary, he was definitely going to uni in five months.

Alex shook his head about the talk of making friends. Alex may not have a chip on his shoulder but he had a truck load of emotional baggage and serious trust issues. Doubts were ever present but Alex had made some progress with interpersonal relationships. He got on with everyone at Cresswell. The manager at SpeediBike Courier service liked Alex, they traded stories of both their dodgy pasts. Shifty Mike had been in prison. So Alex's dad being an ex con, ex Army had gotten him some browny points. As well as Alex being a serial truant and bad boy. Alex often wondered if the bike couriers were a cover for the mob but unlike his younger self, Alex did not go looking for trouble, not anymore.


	20. Chapter 20

Alex had closed the book on the chapter of his life that had been destroyed by MI6. His fellow students thought him extremely shy and reclusive. He never told anyone anything about himself. He was fine with that. Student Life was ridiculously easy in terms of coursework. A few of the fellow first years were observant enough to know Alex was living in a half way house, seeing a shrink and was extremely jumpy if anyone nudged him. Alex was happy to remain close to his tried and true friends, Sabina, Tom and James. The Alex that was their friend now was quieter, introverted and careful. Alex now had his closely kept routines, he was almost religious in his observance to his carefully structured life involving timetables, lists and chosen companions. He continued to work for and observe Shifty Mike and his grey world between legitimate and crooked business dealings. Sabina came up from Oxford to the big smoke regularly. James had tried to persuade Alex to visit him in Germany, but Alex was happy keeping his sphere on influence to west and south-west London and not a step beyond.

6 AM at Speedibikes Offices in Fulham. Alex came in to start his four hour shift carrying two coffees, one for himself and one for Mike.

"Mornin' Mike. You look a bit stressed. Anything wrong?" asked Alex as he entered the disaster area that was the office. Jobs were already stacking up on the board.

"Chas and Bradley called in sick and I have three packages for the city needed before 8am. You don't go east of St. Paul's and Sue and Leon aren't in until 8." Mike looked at Alex's blank face and sighed. "You never told me the reason why?"

"I was involved in an accident near Liverpool Street Station when I was 14, I nearly died. Outside of the place my uncle worked."

Dawning flickered over Mike's face "Christ, your uncle died when you were 14. It must have been one hell of a car accident to kill him and nearly kill you."

In clipped tones, Alex stressed "I really, really don't want to talk about it. OK Mike." Alex avoided talking of his teenage years. Sick of the lies, better just not to say anything than the web of half truths left after you factored in OSA. Let people connect the facts themselves and never contradict them. Funny it was Mike who thought it had been one accident. More believable than the truth. Alex breathed in two calming breaths and asked "Where are the deliveries going?"

"Umm Unicon on Aldgate, London College of Fashion and Royal London Hospital, Whitechapel."

Alex looked at the map and calculated the shortest route avoiding the Royal and General. "I'll do it as a favour, but I'm pushing my luck." Alex then fingered the three friendship bracelets on his wrist, twisting the strigs around and around, before bitting his thumb nails.

"Christ, Alex... If this is going to give you a freaky I subcontract them to Flexi-bastards in Tooting." The motorcycle couriers who ate into Mike's profits. In London, pushbikes were faster and cheaper, with no blasted congestion charge.

"I'll be fine... once I'm cycling I'll be in the zone. Get there as fast as I can in one piece. Take no prisoners." With that Alex drank the last of his coffee with the mantra going through his head, he could do this and still get to college on time.

Alex did not even make a note of the names on the packages, he did not have time. He had his phone if he needed to moan to Mike. He ended up doing a big loop, 7:20 at London School of Fashion, 7:35 at Royal London, and finally 7:55 at Unicon on Aldgate. At each he'd practically flung the packages to the receptionist and legged it to the next job. He was still on time, he efficiently parked and padlocked his old but decent bone shaker. He strode through to the reception desk in the smart new office building. In short order, he had the dispatch sheet signed and the parcel handed over and it was only then he noted the name on the dispatch... Carlos Kelenkov.

The receptionist was about to call up for the PA to collect the documents when she noticed the courier was white as a sheet and seemed to be breathing far too fast.

Alex was in full on panic. He wanted to run but his body was not working. He couldn't breathe and the edges of his vision were greying.

There was a gaggle of people by the lifts, many turned around listening to Florence, the receptionist, ask the courier stood there if he needed a glass of water and a sit down, when the young man topped over bonelessly. Florence Mackenzie did not panic, she'd done her one day course on basic first aid. The young man was obviously very fit. He was unconscious but he was very pale and his breathing laboured and wheezing. She noted his dispatch notices he'd already done a marathon getting across town and two other jobs since 6:15. She put him in the recovery position and phoned for an ambulance.

Carlos Kelekov swept into the building to see an ambulance crew loading a young blond haired man onto a stretcher. Oxygen mask in place, IV and a Heart monitor. It looked serious. Carlos took in the other details, a bike helmet was discarded on the floor with a Speedi-bike dispatch bag and a clipboard. After the emergency services had left he personally commended the receptionist on her medical skill, quick thinking and calm handling of the situation. Carlos Kelenfov then picked up the clipboard and noticed the name of the bike courier, Alex Rider. It couldn't be the same boy? Could it?

"Mr Kelenkov... I forgot to send up your package upstairs. Its the legal papers regarding the take over of Digital Cypher."

The bodyguard took the papers and checked they were OK. " please keep me informed on Mr. Rider's progress."

"Yes Sir. He was on his way to A&E at the Royal London. I'll just let his office know."

Mike was much happier now than at the beginning of the day. He'd got another rider to come in to cover and everyone else had turned up for work. He was now timetabling in the lunch time runs, when the phone rang.

"Speedi-bike, same day delivery guarnteed within central London."

"Good Morning, there was a problem with the delivery of Package SB0710200608003"

"Your package was delivered alright?" queried Mike. He hated having to do customer service.

"Yes thank you in plenty of time.. I'm sorry but your courier, Alex Rider collapsed in the entrance hall. He has just been taken in a Ambulance to Royal London Hospital."

Mike put down the phone and swore. He quickly retrieved Alex's emergency details and relayed to Bill at the Cresswell Centre that Alex had taken ill and was on his way to A&E.

The ambulance sped the mile to Whitechapel, weaving through the rush hour traffic. The technician kept his eyes fixed on the heart monitor, the patients heart rate was too fast, and it was not regular, he quickly spoke to the driver, "Stevie get on the radio, we need to go to the Chest, this kid's heart is in arrhythmia." The ambulance headed north to The Chest Hospital, the best place for heart conditions in London.


	21. Chapter 21

Adrian Booth had a very good memory. In October 2001.. 15th 4:15pm a fourteen year old youth had been on his operating table after being shot. .22 bullet to the chest, nicking the pulmonary artery and exiting by his left arm pit. The boy had been transferred the next day to St. Dominic's. He'd always wondered what had happened to him. Today the consultant heart surgeon had been called down from his clinic to attend an emergency. Here he was face to face with the same boy, well young man now. He had collapsed, still unconscious, heart in arrhythmia.

"Any medical notes?" stated the consultant imperiously.

The houseman answered in clear tones "Collapsed 7:55 am. Ambulance called 7:58. Arrived here 8:25. Patient unconscious, laboured breathing. In shock. Male, 18, works as a part time bicycle courier. Errr he lives at Cresswell Centre in Westminster. His care worker has been contacted and is on the way. Alexander John Rider was discharged from Harlsden Hall seven months ago. Paranoid depression, acute personality disorder, three episodes of self harm."

"No mention of any follow up check ups with a heart specialist since October 2001?" asked Mr. Booth, already knowing that Mr. Rider had fallen through the cracks after being transferred from NHS to a private hospital.

"Errr no." stated the houseman confused.

"No mention of the gunshot wound to his chest." stated Mr, Booth as he checked both scars, entering and exit.

"Err No, Mr. Booth."

"Right, full tests, heart and chest. Lets see it its his heart or a problem with blood flow. Have you administered any thinners."

"Yes Sir"

"Mr Rider had a stint put in his pulmonary artery 5 years ago and it looks like he had no follow up check ups. We could be dealing with any number of problems. Do check his lungs as well. We might be dealing with pneumonia."

The team went about the business of checking everything on their patient.

Mr. Booth went to the nurses station and phoned his colleague Mr. Roger Hayward at St. Dominic's.

...

Alex had lain listening to the doctor's talk. He blearily opened his eyes to see he was in an examination cubical. He'd fainted after having a panic attack. He looked puzzled as he was hooked up to an IV, on oxygen and he could hear the loud blips of a heart monitor.

"Mr. Rider." The nurse looked at the patient who was now conscious but not quite fully aware from the glazed look in his eyes. "Mr Rider you're in hospital. You heart is beating too fast. We have to run a few tests. We're just about to take some x-rays, then you'll be going to have a scan."

Alex tried to understand what was happening before whispering "I had a panic attack."

"Mr. Rider, your heart is not beating correctly, its skipping out of rhythm. We have to find out what's causing the problem OK."

Alex thought about Carlos Kelenkov and started to heave. The nurse had a bucket and the oxygen mask off before Alex spewed up his breakfast and his coffee from this morning.

The nurse patted his back and then gave him a tissue to wipe his mouth, but no water was allowed to be drunk, just some to rinse his mouth. "Nil by mouth I'm afraid. Its just a precaution Mr Rider in case you need to go into surgery."

Alex closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. "I fucking hope not."

...

Bill arrived back at Cresswell, Alex had gone up to surgery after the Consultant had told him Alex had stated he'd had a panic attack leading to Supraventricular tachycardia, super fast beating of Alex's heart, which had put his heart into arrhythmia. The fast beating of his heart had also put a strain of the patch and stint on his pulmonary artery causing a tear and leak. Bill logged into Alex's email account to send a message to all his friends. He also had the delightful task of contacting Alex's college, his foster parents and Mr. John Crawley. He frankly hated passing on bad news. Alex was in surgery and the consultant may have stated the operation was routine, but things could still go wrong. Bill just hoped Alex wasn't starting on a downward spiral concerning his other problems. The panic attack may be a one off but it may signify other major repercussions concerning Alex's mental well being.

Alex woke, it took several seconds for him to remember and process all that had happened today. Bad things happen in threes and he had truly pushed his luck. Crossing into forbidden territory, having a panic attack over a truly freaky bit of coincidence and ending up in hospital due to a painful reminder of Scorpia and their revenge on him. He closed hie eyes and lay on the strange hospital bed. He could feel the throb of pain across his chest. He did not want to be here, but he was in high dependancy, so he did not have much choice about it. He doubted he'd be able to stand, never mind get up, dressed and walk out of the hospital. His bike was still chained up on Aldgate and the doctor telling him the fact he'd somehow damaged the patch-up job done five years ago after he'd been shot. He was able to see the scars on his lower arms and the bastards had removed his friendship bracelets. The nurse checked on Alex to find him sobbing quietly.

Senior nurse Matti Balik had read up on her new patient. Her sister was a psychiatric nurse, whereas she prefered the surgical ward.

"Alex did you need a tranquilizer?"

Moist brown eyes focused on the short dark haired nurse in hospital scrubs and friendly name tag. "You took my bracelets off. I need my bracelets. They stop me wanting to hurt myself." Alex then checked himself "I said that outloud didn't I?"

The nurse thought about the strange things the patient's said after surgery and the fact that Mr. Rider had obviously blurted out about his control mechanisms. "OK Alex I'll look into that for you. I have to warn you its likely that they were cut off by the admissions team."

Alex let out a long controlling breath. "Can I have my mobile? I need to let people know I'm here."

"Bill, the care worker from Cresswell, was here earlier. He or the manager, Dan, will be visiting later. I'm sure they'll contact your friends, your work and your college." The nurse then looked through the cabinet by the bed. "No mobiles on ward. I can bring you a phone. No personal items, so I guess they were taken by Bill earlier. He said he'd drop off a change of clothes and your necessities. It was a bit hectic getting you diagnosed and into theatre. Are you hungry? You missed dinner and its a long time till breakfast."

"I'm OK. I think I puked when I got here. Its a bit fuzzy still."

...

Bill had finally got off the phone to find pandemonium in the kitchen. "Oi, Bill, Bill! Alex is meant to be cooking dinner and the bastard's not here. He promised cottage pie. Fucking liar!" stated the loud and obnoxious Milo.

"Settle down everyone, I'll ring for pizza. Milo, you can rearrange the rotas. No Alex for atleast two weeks. He's in hospital."

Before Bill could finish, Rita cut in with "Did he try to top himself again or get squashed riding that bike of his like a maniac?"

Bill rubbed his forehead. "Next comment I hand out punishments, its been a trying day. Alex, unknown to us here, has an underlying heart problem. He had surgery as a teenager. He collapsed suffering from an accelerated, super-fast beating of his heart. He is being fitted with a pacemaker and having some other repairs done. So open heart surgery equals very poorly Alex. He is on family only visitors at the Chest Hospital. His foster sister is visiting tomorrow, Dan is going later. You lot are not on the need to visit list. You can see him when he gets back."

...

Carlos Kelenkov was glad the meeting over the merger had finished. He had resigned from most positions on his late father's companies. He had invested in a series of new businesses and was proving to have the same golden touch and business head as his father. Unicon was growing. Yvette Bannister came in after a gentle knock. "Mr Kelenkov, we've just had an update on the dispatch rider who colapsed in reception this morning. He's stable after surgery and being transferred to the ward."

"Surgery?"

"Supraventricular tachycardia was diagnosed. Mr. Rider was fitted with a pacemaker and had some repairs to a problem on his pulmonary artery. The procedure was described as Routine surgery. He's expected to be in hospital for a few days then a few weeks rest and recuperation. I spoke to the Cresswell Centre, Alex is expected to stay with his foster parents."

Carlos nodded. He had spoken to Edward Pleasure on several occasions. It had been decided in the past that Carlos should not contact Alex Rider directly. Carlos had questions over his father's actions. He was undecided whether to talk to the young man or let things be.


	22. Chapter 22

Alex genuinely smiled and looked happy for the first time since he had woken that morning, when a bright and breezy Sabina Pleasure arrived with gifts for the staff and homemade treats for her brother. The day had not started well for Alex, he had eaten two mouthfuls of breakfast and had looked green and ready to puke. The egg sandwiches at lunchtime had not even been touched and here he was tucking into a tupperware dish filled with homemade pasta salad to be followed by Sabina's speciality, Madeleine's. Sabina then pulled out a flask of cool homemade lemonade. She gushed at the awfulness of the train from Oxford, the fact Liz was arriving from San Francisco in the morning and that Edward was stuck on a book tour in Singapore. The book in question was his book on the Kelenkov kidnapping and Stephan's revenge. The trail of blackmail and murder uncovered the use of hitmen and the mask of a boring businessman who proved to be a psychopath. It was even more chilling than the book on Damian Cray. Alex had read both books. Edward had a lovely style of gripping the reader and then leading them through the trail of clues. It was like a horror story.

Sabina then pulled out another woven bracelet. "This is to replace the one misplaced and recycled as hospital waste. I went for oranges and blue this time. You must make me a reciprocal one now or the magic won't work."

Alex smiled as he was handed a pile of threads to twist into a work of jewelry for Sabina's delicate wrist. "Maybe tomorrow, my hands are still a bit shaky today."

"Low blood sugar. Come on eat up before you waste away. I'll go to Mark's tonight. Chicken, brown rolls and coleslaw for tomorrows snackipoos. Sound OK. Maybe Walnut cake?"

"And Earl Grey or Lady Grey Tea, not the stewed to fuck swill they serve here."

"You snob Alex." said Sabina smiled as she sipped her lemonade.

"I hate hospital food. I never wanted to even see another overcooked pile of shit or manky sandwich again as long as I live. The food here makes the crap a Harlsden Hall seem like gourmet."

"Come off it, you were sent weekly food packages by half the SAS when you were at the Hall. I know you bribed most of the staff with the sweets, crisps and cigarettes those overgrown children sent you."

"Have you let Harry know I'm ill?" The ex-sergeant kept in touch with the worst gossipers at Hereford, Alex suspected Eagle was the main culprit behind his previous gifts.

"Yeah. He was a bit surprized when I told him it was your pulmonary artery. He did not know about the sniper incident."

"No, the Bank told everyone I had an appendicitis."

"Lying bastards. Harry's unable to visit at the moment, maybe at the weekend if your still here. What's the doctor said?"

"Umm Mr Booth had his rounds this morning, he did not say much to me just the gaggle of students. I think at least 4 days according to the nurse, longer if I don't eat." Alex grimaced but then ate another two small light sponge cakes. "What magic do you use on your cakes, mine are never as light?"

"Cream the butter and sugar well for normal sponge. Madeleines its beating the eggs and sugar together perfectly. Do you need anything else?"

"I need to sort out what I'm missing at college. I guess I won't be back until January if I'm going back to the US with Liz."

"Yeah mum will mother you to death, but here not back home. Mum is renting an apartment in Oxford. She and Dad will be spending Christmas here. We'll be one big disfunctional family again. I think mum is planning on inviting Harry, James and Tom for Christmas day."

"You're planning to cook aren't you, Sab? I'll help. Its just your mother and complicated cooking don't mix."

"That why we have M&S, darling. Even mommy dearest can't mess that up." Sabina told Alex that she was staying a family friend's who lived in Hackney for a few days. Liz was joining her at Aunty Millie's until Alex was discharged.

There was the familiar loud tones and bustle from the corridor and nurses station that always accompanied the arrival of Mr. Tom Harris. In came the dark haired tall young man still dressed in his struffy work clothes. "Alex... Sabina. Miss me?"

A chair was carried over as Tom moved to hug Alex but stopped at the sight of tubes and electronics. "Got enough equipment attached to you there, Alex?"

"Still on a catheter. I'll be allowed out of bed tomorrow if my ECG is OK. No more irregular heart beats or panic attacks." Alex said in a tired and slightly breathless.

"Big new scar?" Tom asked eying up the large dressing covering the centre and left hand side of Alex's chest.

"No I don't think so. Opened me up the same as last time. Bit of vein from my leg patched the artery, put in a pacemaker. So I'm bionic now."

"I posted on Brookland's message board about your second heart surgery. I got a load of get well soon messages. A few apologies as well, you know everyone did not believe you were ill before. OK Sab, you keep watch for the staff as I'm taking some piccies of sicknote here. Now Alex remember to look drawn, pale and pathetic." stated Tom as he moved to get the best shot of the patient.

"Don't I always look like that anyway?" said Alex grimacing as he tried to move.

"Good good lots of pained looks will get you lots of sympathy. Sympathetic girls tend to offer easy dates." Tom was on a mission to get Alex to talk and interact with others. Maybe even have sex.

"I heard that Harris. You are a real sexist pig at times." Sabina stated.

Tom had taken his photos and then he looked at the tupperware containers and attacked the cakes on offer.

Sabina snatched the tub away with "Those are for Alex not mobile trash cans. You can eat his dinner when it arrives. What did you order anyway?"

"Sweet and sour pork. I think there's some sort of pudding as well. Not that I'll eat it I'm stuffed" Alex patted his skinny flat stomach. "How come they let trouble in, I thought it was family and care workers only?" Alex nodded at Tom who shrugged as his name was on the list of allowed visitors.

"Blame me, you have two foster brothers. I don't know if James will visit but I talked to his dad last night. Dieter sends his love, but I think James is in India or Thailand backpacking and enjoying himself. He'll be back in two weeks anyway."

"I got a post card last week from Mumbai. James was dating some Bollywood actress." Alex noted the nurse come in to sit him up for dinner. Visiting was from 3 til 8, dinner at 6.

Tom smiled at the woman handing out the trays. "I'll make sure Alex eats it all up." Alex and Sabina tried to keep straight faces, knowing precisely that Tom would eat the food. He, unlike Alex, was not in the least bit fussy about eating. In fact, the Londoner could eat anything a fact that had won him a few bets in school.


	23. Chapter 23

Harry Dixon was sat by the window at the Army and Navy Club in London. The one good thing about coming to London was staying here. A base in the capital for serving and retired members of the armed forces and ancillary staff. The place was busy as always on a Saturday night. Harry sat with a pint and pondered the frail boy he'd just visited. He'd spoken to the doctor, Mr. Booth. He'd also met Liz, Cub's one time foster mother. The fact the Pleasures were there for the kid warmed his heart.

Wolf strode into the bar, on Monday he was at Spook Central in Vauxhall for a briefing. He had the weekend to relax. He would start with a few drinks at the Club to see if any other members of Special Forces were in town. The short dark haired man scanned the room and spotted Sergeant Dixon.

"Evening Harry, what you doing in town?" was asked gruffly in Wolf's normal manner.

"Evening Wolf." was the tired reply, "Just visiting a friend in hospital. He had open heart surgery after having a bit of a turn on Tuesday."

"Do I know him?" Wolf said thinking it was a retired member of the SAS.

"Yeah, Cub."

"Really? The kid was as fit as a fiddle. What is he now, nineteen?"

"Umm. Nobody's fit a a fiddle after taking a bullet in the chest. Cub was targeted by a sniper in October 2001, the bullet nicked his pulmonary artery. He nearly died. Last week, he had a panic attack and his heart went into overdrive and put to much strain on the patch on the artery. Kid's got a pacemaker now. He'll have to manage himself not to panic in future."

Wolf sat and watched Harry drink deeply. "Those bastards lied, they said he had an appendicitis."

Harry smiled "Well I guess I'll pass on about the lack of clarity and honesty to the regiment from the Bank but we were told not to ask questions. I feel like sending that bastard Blunt a Ton of manure for this. Luckily Cub is medically unfit for those bastards now."

"Is the kid receiving visitor's"

"He is, but leave it Wolf. The kid spent eight months in mental care last year. He's fragile. He needs nice and quiet with his foster family. I'll see if he can come to one of the regular get togethers, so you lot can see him on his terms."

Wolf sat back. "Thats why Eagle wouldn't talk to me last year. He just said a friend had had a breakdown. What caused it."

Harry knew he was pushing promises he'd made Alex "The kid spent a year as the guest of a Scorpia affiliate, who tortured him extensively."

Wolf could see he was getting just the overview, no details. "There's more isn't there? What aren't you saying?"

"Alex will probably never get over what that man did to him, OK. Leave it. He's coping. Not thriving, not normal, not stable, just coping. Cub's foster sister is a den mother, she tracked me down last year to get him to actually talk. He was almost completely withdrawn at the time. He has a list of coping strategies a mile long. He's a good kid, MI6 fucked him over and left him out in the cold. I see him occasionally. Eagle asks after him frequently but has the sense to say away. Don't hassle the kid or all hassle you."

...

Video conference calls were a fact of life for Carlos Kelenkov. His assistant had finally tracked Edward Pleasure down to a hotel in Singapore.

"Carlos, I guess you want to talk about Alex." The pixelated image of the middle aged writer moved, probably drinking a cup of tea, before continuing. "Alex is OK after surgery and is likely to be out next Wednesday according to Liz, she saw him today. He's calm and says he was walking to the bathroom today and on general ward. Everything is medically fine."

"Thanks for the update. I was hoping to talk to Alex. Can you pass the message on that I want to discuss my father and stress I do not hold him responsible for my father's actions or demise. I just wish some closure and Alex it seems knew my father better than either myself or my mother."

He watched as Edward procrastinated before asking "You are in England aren't you."

"Yes until the 10th, then New York and home to Geneva for the holidays." The businessman casually flicked through his groaning itinerary.

"Alex is being discharged on Wednesday or Thursday, I'm flying back on Tuesday. I will speak to Alex and let you know what he decides. Alex has grieved for Stephan and he truly believes it was love, twisted psychotic but love. He is fragile in the fact he does not trust himself at all. I suspect he feels his and your father's relationship caused you to stop talking to your father. Alex really does not understand family relationships. His uncle brought him up like a training partner, not like a nephew not like a son." Edward then brought the conversation to an end. "I'll contact you next Thursday or Friday most likely. I'll email our address in Oxford, if Alex agrees to the visit."

...

Edward was knackered, jetlag was a bitch. He was sat sprawled across the back seat of the Volvo, Liz had hired. He had landed at seven, got to the hospital for 9:30 in time for Alex's assessment prior to discharge, The boy looked awful but his wife had assured him the nineteen year old looked 100% better than he had three days previously. Edward was glad there were no traffic jams and the drive to Oxford proceeded smoothly. They would be at the rented flat by one, just in time for lunch. Sabina was already there, making sure everything was perfect. The efficient and organised young woman had informed the local GP and had Alex transferred to the practice for their stay, just in case they needed medical cover. She had shopped, arranged a cleaner, parking permits and informed all family and friends of their moving back, temporarily. Sabina had even arranged a small office for Edward, if he needed it from a friend of a friend. Edward knew his daughter would have a ream of lists, planners and schedules of everyone and everything.

Liz parked,right outside the apartment block, hazard warning lights flashing on the car as Edward helped his tired foster son out of the car. Alex had slept most of the way there. It was just their luck that a traffic warden started to tell them off when Sabina appeared and in short clear sentences recited the highway code regarding double yellow lines to the officious council employee. Liz then moved to the residents parking bays as Sabina handed over the correct parking discs to be displayed in the car windscreen. She had gotten a reduced rate as Alex was currently an invalid.

It seemed to take an age for Alex to carefully walk to the front door through the hall of the converted villa. The snug living room had two sofas, recliner and a wood burning stove, already alight and making the place cozy. Edward then went back to collect his luggage to find Liz and Sabina had carried the bags in.

"I'd have done that" he said only to be told by Sabina to go and rest. Lunch would be 15 minutes.

Edward returned to the living room and decided to tell Alex about his talk with Carlos Kalenkov.

"I know what caused your panic attack in London, Alex. You must face you fear. I know you know I've been in contact with Carlos. We talked often after you disappeared. He wanted to come and see you at Harlsden Hall, but you were too fragile." Edward looked at Alex, who looked stoic.

"I know. I'm just afraid he'll blame me for his dad dying, being a bit nuts and everything." Alex knew that would be the natural reaction to loosing your father. He had been so angry at Ash for his actions.

"Carlos does not blame you. You were a child, fifteen when that man enticed you away. It was kidnapping. The laws in California state you are a minor until 18. I told him about the CIA fucking you about."

"Does he know it was the CIA that abducted me and caused that bitch Maria to stir up the locals in their witch hunt."

"Carlos has come to terms with the events surrounding his father's death. He .. wants to talk to you about Stephan. He wants closure about his father's actions, but most of all I think he wants to know you are OK, that you've come to terms with everything."

Alex looked at Edward. "I think I need closure as well. Arrange your meeting, dad."

Alex had read Edward's book on Stephan. There in black and write were the details of Alex's affair with Stephan, but it did not read like the love story that played in Alex's head, it was more 'Misery' than 'Mills and Boon'.


End file.
